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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