I Do Not Rant Poem by Chelisa Eves

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but
their words make me scream inside.
And I choke on it, struggling to speak,
and make myself known.

(I do not speak.)

I rant, and rave; you say I can form an opinion of my own, but I put forth only silence.

That my words should be heard
when in rolls the
storm cloud
over this house,
coming in like my personal hell on wheels;
the noxious humidity is thick in my nostrils
every time I (gasp for breath) between my shouting.

And I strangle the words I never said with your fancy tie,
so full of expectations like a pattern that I can’t see anything but.

But then I step back,
and see myself in the garish
fun
house
mirror
of your eyes.

I see these badly worn masks and marketable façade,
and I hate myself in your eyes- your image.

And inside, though I say nothing,
I am screaming.