If I told you the truth, it would be saddening. All my life I have been pushed to the side, always living in a overcrowded room, struggling to breathe over the overbearing voices. I have been ignored, talked over and left out. But still, after years of it, I still get that queasy feeling in my stomach, my heart contracts, my palms sweat and my head hurts. A pit settles into the bottom of my stomach and a voice tells me how unloved I am. People might think I'm overreacting, but I'm just tired of being treated as if I'm not there. It's okay if it happens once or twice, but is it not too much when you, yourself, forgets that you're there? Is it not too much, when you are used to not being able to speak up and give your opinion. I know I'm not the smartest of the bunch, I'm not pretty, I'm not beautiful, I'm not majorly loved. But I have a voice, a voice that has been silenced for far too long. A voice that wants to take everything and scream it at the world.
So this is me, telling my true story.
-Esha Dev
YOU ARE READING
Every thing and Nothing
PoetryEvery thought and small parts of a book I'm writing:)
