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.

One day…

I will be able to speak my truth again without being censored.

One day…

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.