Free to be in America, free to color my hair.
Free to drink iced tea ll day, no one will care.
Free to criticize what I don’t like, free to not share.
Impossible to contain freedom of speech, impossible to bear
The one thing no free person can stand– silence.
No phone. No words. No to-do list. Just the echo of the thoughts in my head.
Silence can be sweet, like new romance or sweet chai tea–
Or it can be bitter, revealing everything I deny in raw honest purity.
Oh silence, a sigh, then silence.
I keep the silence out with whatever I can.
I make noise by all means at hand.
My iPod, always plugged in, like a drug IV.
Netflix, when I’m at home, protects what I see.
If not that, then some other means.
I can’t take silence, I can’t face that kind of clean.