Speak To Me

*Disclaimer: This poem reflects one of the problems I see in todays era. Of the many...*

“Please speak to me....”

Because currently I have been ghost, and I have tried to do the most and still you all ignore me. Yes I may not be as cool as you but I swear I have only a little bit of swag. Yes maybe my stomach is big like a punching bag, or my eyebrows are so long you can’t tell if I’m sad or mad. But I ask you. Is that the only difference between me and you? Because granted I may not be cool, shit I may even be home schooled, but I am not a ghost. I’m not dead like a lawn post. I’m not as invisible as a desert coast. I once used to thrive. Damn I used to be so alive.

And it sucks because when you acknowledged me it would only be to whop my ass. It would be to pick me last. It used to only be when I walked alone in the rain; that was when the insults didn’t shoot bullets into my brain. Those were the days when girls didn’t leave my shirt stained...with a broken heart. The days when I was wet, but I wasn’t soaked. Days when I wasn’t the butt of somebody’s joke.

Every night as I lay in bed I cried...I contemplated thoughts of if anyone would care if I died. And one day I stopped to frown, damn... I broke down. In the pool of my slit tears I split my years of depression length wise, because I knew on the inside no one would care. And in my seat of tiles and shattered glass, I knew that even if I screamed...you wouldn’t be there.

Because, you weren’t strumming my pains with your fingers, you weren’t singing my life with your words...but you were killing me softly with your silence. And all I asked....was that you speak to me.

Speak to me. Just say a word to me so I can feel...something. Because right now the silence is unbearable. I can’t stand the demands of my mind. I can no longer withstand the time that goes by. In silence. Because you can save me. You can release me from my struggles and pains. You can keep me out of my own brain and the thoughts of blade glides and contemplating suicide. Your lips can be my cure. If only you would...speak to me. If only you would take in a breath and say one word, I’m not asking for a conversation or phrases I’m asking for just one word. And if you understand now why I cried and if you can now comprehend why I died, you should know you could have saved me by saying....hi. You could have saved me by not just passing by.

But you have yet to realize I am gone. You haven’t seen that I have truly become ghost. Because I now am what you wanted me to be, and as I speak and preach this from my stage of classrooms, hallways and school busses you....only feel the cold chill of my spirit, can you feel it....I mean damn these are my words, can you hear it?

Because now it’s too late for you to...speak to me.

Because you killed me.

With your silence.  

-Moises Seraphin