Sounding Me Out

 

Words are so

Carelessly spoken.

They fill the spaces

Between two people.

 

They are at times

No more than sounds.

They are made

Without much thought.

 

Sounds can quiet

The embarrassment of silence.

Sounds can be made

To rid an unwanted presence.

 

We make our sounds

To fill a need,

To please ourselves

Or to displease others.

 

We made our sounds

So that others could

Understand us and to make

Our feelings known.

 

Behold the tragedy

Of turning our sounds

Into words.

 

What can my words

Mean to you

When what I say

Is something not what I mean?

 

I expect you

To know

When I don't say

What I mean.

 

 

Even when I speak

The Truth,

My words mean to you

Not what they mean to me.

 

Words are so

Carelessly spoken

And I fear mine

To be misunderstood.

 

Thus, I silence my words

And my sounds.

I speak to you not and hope

You'll know what I feel.

 

B. Benjamin                                                                                         

BBP72