White Room

This is a list of ideas that never made it into their own poem.

They told me to be quiet
in the white room
where you could never fit the outlines
around the objects creating the shadows.
They told me to rewind my thoughts
like a vhs in the vcr,
and tell them the many faces
he collected in my nightmares.
They told me I didn’t care enough about myself,
and I told them I was never taught how to say yes,
but my stubbornness
is the reason I have survived so long.
I told them of the semicolon,
and my desire to continue my story
only to prove
there is at least one thing I can win at.
They told me to stop starting wildfires
as soon as the clouds roll in,
and I told them of Emily;
the girl I’ve always wanted to be,
and how the smoke signals
are the only way I know how to reach her.
They told me to be quiet
in the white room
where all my words were thrown back at me
and I told them
I have a scrap paper
full of ideas
to make myself heard in the silence.

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