(no subject)

[evathadiva]

understand
my
hesitations
my
movements

understand
my silence

my intentions

sometimes I really feel
in room
packed to the brim

with no one
to listen
no one
who
hears my voice

no
one
who really sees
my eyes

wishing I understood what I did wrong

walking alone
in these
woods
woods of
glass
these
dim
woods
scraping at my sides
as I pass
by

it felt so good
expressing
everything that I felt

but sometimes
that isn't even
good enough

dancing to those rough words

singing you
me

no one
can
hear

speaking
what I feel
what is
me
and being met by a blank
stare

or by

a

silent
goodbye