Will you teach me how to scream, my love?
Somewhere between being a girl
and becoming a woman,
I lost my voice to silence.
I learned to swallow
the things that wanted to come out of me —
until even my silence
began to sound like screaming
in my ears.
I became so good at keeping things in,
I forgot there was anything
to let out.
I am happy.
And yet, I yearn for a scream.
Why can’t I scream
as loud as I can laugh?
Strange.
I kept my walls up
until I found you.
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And suddenly,
I wanted to let them fall.
But perhaps I found you too late, my love.
By then,
I had forgotten
how to come undone.
Now the scream lives inside me,
echoing against the walls
of everything I never said.
Will you teach me how to scream?
Before I become a grave
with too much left inside it.
I wonder if the dead
would hear me then.
