Alien (Draft)

I’ve never been very good with words

Sure, given a pad and a pen
I can sonnet them into a symphony
But under the doldrums of daily discourse
they only discharge dysfunction
More often than not my clasped tongue
has left me handcuffed and hamstrung

This is what it is to be alien
That is to say
Have a rare gift for alienating
Transforming friends into foes
With the simple lash of a tongue
Or some less-than-poetic prose
Fumbling at phrases
As if I’d found foreign soil beneath my tongue
Seeds of confusion sprouting with each syllable
The words never seem to come out the way I intend them to

So I’ve learned to choose my words
the way parents choose names for their children
Carefully. Thoughtfully.  Patiently.
Conceding that sometimes silence is the best statement

But I’ve never managed to stay silent for long

My hair trigger-tongue
Slicing beneath ribs
With a sniper’s efficiency

And while time has taught me
that it matters much less
What you say verses what you do
I’m still trying to get a grasp on words
before I graduate to actions

I asked them

How can I make amends?

They said the only path to redemption is honesty
And honestly

My tongue ought to come equipped with gloves
For it seems it’s best at pointing fingers
Like The Cleaner hired to cover my tracks
But still the evidence lingers
So I wrap myself in blankets of hypocrisy
For fear of facing the cold hard truth
There is no lonelier feeling than being misunderstood

To be alien is to be less than human

So I’ve created self-defense mechanisms
And leave tear stains on paper
So the ink bleeds
rather than my heart
I’ve been praying for a fresh start
Hoping one day they’ll realize
ET didn’t hack the speak & spell simply to phone home
He wanted to be understood
I just want to be understood
We all just want to be understood


One thought on “Alien (Draft)

  1. Talicha J. says:

    “My tongue ought to come equipped with gloves
    For it seems it’s best at pointing fingers”

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