If I could talk
I would tell you what I’ve heard and what I’ve seen
what I want
what I dream
I’d tell you what I really think
If only I could speak.

This isn’t one of the could’ve, should’ve but didn’t tales
I wont tell you some sob story
Ill just tell you of the things I would say.
If these lips moved perfectly
the words projecting for all to hear
they wouldn’t have profound meaning
no life altering information
they couldn’t tell you how to feed starving mouth
mend a broken heart.
But inside the crevices of the letters and words all jumbled together
if you took the time to examine every word, every syllable, every period…

They would speak truth about who I really am
if only I would open up the mouth that seems to always censor what I say
always forcing out what should be said
never what it wants to let out.
If I could just let up for one day
let words blurt
slip
fall down into the air
boy, that would be something to hear. for once, you would know that things I want, not what I’m told I should have, the things I should be.

In these sounds, it wouldn’t be about that girl whose face sits on a wall for things she did on a court.
Not the name that is posted on a pointless list for success in a classroom that never really prepared her for anything
The real me.
The real girl.
The real soul behind the makeup and smile that can hide anything.
The one that longs to learn how to play the guitar and sing like those musicians sitting on broken chairs in bars full of searching souls
the one who regrets, even though she is told that you aren’t supposed to do that.
the one that does have things to regret despite this front she puts up.
They’d say how her empty face that walks aimlessly through hallways… it’s just waiting.
waiting for someone peel off that mask
to open those brown eyes
or to simply just to walk up beside her and take her hand

But here’s the problem--
these words and thousands more like them wont come out.
they cant slide perfectly out those lips to share what they really want.
so the words just wait...

It actually quite an unfortunate fact that they cant seem to come out because these words,
well, they would be nothing you’ve ever heard before.
No, they wouldn’t be some profound information
couldn’t tell you how to feed starving mouths
mend a broken heart
But they would speak truth
about the girl who sits behind a disarranged notebook and writes what she wants, dreams, thinks
if only she could speak.