my poems are long
I fear too long
that the receivers of these words
will grow bored
that to be heard here
you must be efficient and concise
some call it tldh (too long didn’t hear)
but I have held my breath for so long
that when i exhale
a lot comes up alongside of that breath
for fear of that hiding that awaits
from the glazed eyes and vacant expressions
that greet me
telling me to “shh shh”
be quiet now
no one cares
I have never been called long winded
never raised my hand in class
my voice not interesting enough
to be heard
my long poems are a reclamation
of my truths
that walk out of me and demand to be heard
that refuse to adhere to anyone else’s timeline
that it burst out of me
on it’s time
in it’s way
my poems tend to be long
for I have something to say
and I will stand beside her
for as long as it takes for her to speak
with bright eyes
and a defiant smile
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