2025-08-12
They nod as you speak,
but their eyes are busy
searching for themselves in your words—
like miners sifting sand
for a single golden flake
that matches their own reflection.
Your sentences,
trimmed and bent,
are dressed in their colors
before you can set them free.
It’s not your voice they want—
only your mouth
as a mirror.
And if you dare
let the sound come
from the wild truth of your own chest,
they will frown,
as though you have
mispronounced the world.
So you learn
to keep some thoughts
in the quiet orchard of your mind,
where they ripen in peace,
never plucked
for someone else’s plate.
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