In crowded rooms, a silent dance I weave,
In silent symphonies, a social grieve,
The symphony of small talk, a daunting tune,
Navigating the spaces like a distant new moon
Silent echoes of a wary glance,
a timeless waltz within the depths of a
trance
Like social seas and stormy tempests
In my mind,
A tango of nerves, a subtle bind.
Averse to gazes, hesitant steps,
A delicate quickstep where fear intercepts.
My scripted dialogue, uncertain lines,
In the theatre of connection, a hesitant mime.
Who am I without the muted song
playing inside my head?
Am I simply the grains of sand?
Or the quiet orchestra band?
Do soft winds visit my despair?
Do voices exist everywhere?
Yet in the dance of discomfort,
A quiet strength emerges, dazing the anxious mind.
And a resilient spirit awakens —
my anxious heart sails
In a new chapter, my strength prevails
Facing the whirls that speak and rhyme...
— Crowded Rooms
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YOU ARE READING
the words I kept
Poetry"𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼, 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓲𝓼𝓱..." these are the feelings I carried with me, thoughts I held back, scars I hid, and all the words I kept; my friend and my foe. Warning: some may be triggering, dis...
