Poezja

We had no need to speak
Had no need to talk
To eachother
To every other
Like children chasing kites
We think our words are dragons
that spit fire
so we keep them to ourselves,
fearing and aching

But one day,
The ache will go away
Our thoughts will become bigger than us
and we will use them as our shields
The kites will fly away
The dragons will die
Words shall remain
And we will tell them to eachother.