Sometimes I think 💬
(I do sometimes 😉),
How it seems all so easy
From the outside
To see the words
Flow effortlessly, easily
From your mouth.
It doesn’t make me jealous
Or sad
Just wonder
If I could be like that, too,
Maybe
If I was born to an
English speaking
Mother?
Or not
That’s not what matters
What the mother’s tongue
Says
And how
It’s hard or even harder
To find the words
And say
What’s on my mind
Or
In my heart
That hasn’t been said
That way.
Or maybe it’s not true at all
Once the words start
They flow
And flow
And flow.
I like the way this piece stays inside the uncertainty without turning it into something heavy. It almost feels like the exact moment someone hears the words arriving while still trying to understand them.