I feel empty but I’m actually a tea kettle full of boiling water. The lid is ready to whistle, but the water stays just under the surface threatening to rise. My eyes glaze over. I am stuck in this purgatory between almost expressing a genuine emotion and just sitting there.
I am naked.
They can see what I’m feeling, even though I haven’t felt it yet.
I want the water to whistle. I want to be able to speak, but the words are trapped inside of me.
So I wait…
I want to cry.
I want to scream.
But I cannot.
They might see.
So I just sit and wait for it to boil. And then I will be free again.
Free to say what I want.
Free to write what I want.
Free to be myself.
I cannot be true to myself when I am under a giant microscope.
Being observed like a human experiment.
I will be able to speak my truth again without being censored.
The words will flow out of me like a waterfall. They will gush and flow so much that I will barely be able to keep up with them. But for now, I sit and I wait longingly for that day when I can again be me.