Sometimes I can blow their words off,

But other times their words burn me.

Sometimes I wish I could scream,

Out just to get someone’s attention,

Other times I remain silent hoping for attention.

Sometimes I desire silence & shadows,

Other times I hate the silence & shadows.

Sometimes I go for a walk just to cry out,

Other times my soul cries out,

But my ways of explaining what they’re doing to me,

Are never heard or understood.

So I cry out with my soul,

But am never heard.

2011 Unpublished work. © by Rebbecca Abernathy