Different


My entire life I’ve spoken another language
a language that differs from my mother tongue,
my true tongue.

I know it’s in me, but it won’t come out
I can feel it underneath the surface.
And I know when I hear it, but I don’t understand,
Then it sinks father away from the edge,
and it hurts, it burns my soul, and stings my heart
to be surrounded by it,
but unresponsive.

the worst feeling of losing my tongue
is being ashamed and thinking
thinking my farther and family are too.
And like a lost animal I hide,
blending in with my surroundings, not making a sound.

What if you have lost all hope for yourself
like me you would feel unseen and unheard,
misguided and misunderstood,
invisible and broken,
different.