Forgotten

I guess you could call me broken,

says one. I’m still lonely, says another,

but now I can name it with a song.

In my poem, says another,

I can forget I am forgotten. Now

I understand being misunderstood,

says another. And another says,

in a bold, undeniable voice of power,

I won’t step down from myself again.

And they are beautiful, beautiful,

standing one by one at the mic

where they have come forth at last

from behind the curtain.

Silence

My silence means I am

tired of fighting

and now there is nothing left to fight for. My silence means I am tired of explaining my feelings to you,

but now I don’t have the energy to explain them anymore. My silence means I have adapted to the changes

in my life and I don’t want to complain. My silence means I am on self healing process and I am trying to

forget everything I ever wanted from you. My silence means I am just trying to move on gracefully with all 

my dignity.