Saturday, October 5, 2013

I Am So Quiet


I am so quiet that
when I was born my parents
thought I was a shoe
and let me grow old in their closet.
I am so quiet that school bullies
see a chair where I sit
and don’t even tease me.
I am so quiet that
when I am screaming Mrs. Mancuso
shuts the window, thinking
Boy, it’s windy out today. I am so quiet that
when I sang at the talent show
they thought someone was testing the mics
and that the mics were not working.
I am so quiet that
I get scared at night if I hear myself
breathing. I am so quiet
that I wonder sometimes if my body hitting
the ground would make the same sound
as anyone else’s.