Just speak! Say something, say anything. Whatever comes to mind. It doesn’t matter that it isn’t perfectly articulated, or even if it sounds ridiculous, at least you put your opinion out there. When you do finally say that something, you’ve given yourself a chance. An opportunity you might say, to change the world, one ripple at a time.
Speak! What is this word?? This word gives us the people the right to tell others what we feel! Without this word,we would just be a carbon walking machine. Without this word, nothing would change.
A small man asks me my name repeatedly.
As if I’m to give him anything on command.
Even though the command is phrased as a question, I detest the imposition.
I say he is small, but it’s also true that he is not short in stature.
I mean to say that when he speaks, he aims to belittle me.
Because his confidence is dwarfed.
Mine is not.
And because this is fact; I have no name.
I speak through my actions, from my heart. I know you want to hear me say it, but I can’t. Not yet. I show you. I encircle you with my arms, entrance you with my lips. Please believe that I love you, even if I don’t always say it aloud.
People speak
when there minds need emptying,
When their souls need compassion,
When they need to hear their own problems vocalized,
To communicate.
To Idealize.
To wish.
To Hope.
To think.
Too much.
Too little.
With the wrong words to often.
With the right words too seldom.
People Speak.
People Speak.
People Speak.
To speak would be to reveal my love and therein lies the conflict. I love you with a love unheard of but i live in a body that refuses to express it. Oh if only my mouth would open and speak.
To speak is to express your thoughts… right? or do we only speak what we wish others to hear. For in speaking we publicly announce our thoughts, most of which remain internal and not for others to hear. Thinking and speaking is critical, lest you express something you didn’t wish to say. In short, words expose certain thoughts to the world, for better or for worse.
To speak is to express your thoughts… right? or do we only speak what we wissh others to hear. For in speaking we publicly announce our thoughts, most of which remain internal and not for others to hear. Thinking and speaking is critical, lest you ex
She was quiet. Not too quiet, but quiet enough to know that most humans were unable to speak in the way they were designed. Yes they talk, very much, but they don’t speak to each other. They don’t understand each other. They don’t release their emotions in a good way. To speak without talking. It’s art.
speak. speak where gods can hear. where lords will bow to you. speak about what matters. about thw weather. use words to heal, not to hurt. Speak like you mean it to say “I love you” or “I forgive you”. use words to create and speak limitless throught works of art
You speak as if you did not hear what I just said.
Listen.
To me.
It would change your perspective on many things.
The things that I care about, that you seem to not notice.
Speak, yes.
Listen, yes.
Please for the sake of knowing what you’re getting into.
We sat there at the edge of the porch deep into the night. We didn’t say anything of consequence, but we knew that it would stick in our minds for a long time. I could see the light from inside the house like a glow around your cheeks, over strands of your hair, the mole around your mouth. I’d never experienced a night so full of hope.
He told me to speak in his most calm yet commanding voice. Standing in front of the white blinding light, he looked down on me and wait for my words. I stared back up at him and searched my mind. What could I possibly say that would be appropriate for this situation? The right answer, if there was one.
I want so badly. To tell you. How much I love him. He’s my everything. But you’d never listen. The words “there’s this boy.” would set you off. But why? you know him. You like him. I know I’m young, But I love him so much. It’s the story, the boy and the girl who were best friends. They fell in love. I’ve known him for three years. If you’d only let me speak.
Speak. Something about this word makes me feel comfortable. It makes me feel like I could say whatever i wanted and it’d be okay. This is a kind of powerful word, i guess? I’m not sure what about it is powerful but yeah. To speak.. Hmm?
Speak about me whenever you feel low, that way you will find yourself among good memories of us. Do not forget the times we spent sitting by the bridge. Speak about me, and you will find yourself inbetween your words.
My mouth move and I don’t know what to say to you. Nothing I ever say is good enough. “Speak,” you keep telling me, and I am lost. It is like my lips are sewed shut; I am helpless, trapped like Helen Keller beneath these lips that cannot move, underneath this mask that is glued to my face.
I’m speaking! Hello world, I want to speaqk to you about speaking: speaking is a great form of communicating which involves talking to a lot of people at once, this is good if you have something important to say, if more good people spoke, the world would be a better place.
The voice rang out against the frosted walls of the old school. The breath expelled clouded into a fine mist, puffing into the night air. There was a silence that followed, echoing around the empty field, in which no one dared to speak.
it takes so much for me to speak to anyone. won’t you come and see the shy lady in the corner, sitting here, wanting to be spoken to but with no idea what to say back to you. I laugh and shake with fear instead. Hide away my secret dread.
Is your name Kaia? Gaia? Maya? Jedidiah?
No on that last one for sure, huh.
Well, figured I’d try.
How about Candice? Candy? Sandy? Mandy?
No, I don’t always rhyme, lady.
It’s just the way it all comes out sometimes.
Speaking of Mandy, did you know there was a song about her?
Say, by any chance is your name Berry?
I want to speak, to scream, to shout. I’m constricted— as if in one of those dreams, where you’re hurt, your inhibitions are lowered, but an anchor is weighing down my voice. A continous struggle to let out breath but nothing reaches past my lips. Something bad is happening, yet an unidentifiable force keeps me from a saving grace.
Speaking makes people nervous. They start to breath. Harder, deeper, faster. I, personally have been afflicted by the disease of speaking. I can say, it’s terrifying.
I spoke to him, he spoke to me, i was unsure what would happen. We were nervous and kept sneaking glances at each other. The chemistry fizzled, making sparks like stars glittering in the night sky. I giggled, he chuckled, we both made each other happy. Happy like little children snuggling up in their bed , warm and happy, perfectly content.
I speak about lots of things. Good things, bad things. I love to speak to different people about many different things. I speak what is on my mind. I speak about what is important to me.
Speaking is something a lot of people fear to do. I have a small voice, and I’m scared to speak. However, we shouldn’t be… We should SPEAK and stand up for the beliefs that we believe in. As Gandhi said, “We must become the change we wish to see in the world.”
We can make a difference if we speak and stand up for what we believe in.
say a word, say anything. now isn’t the time to lose yourself.
but i can’t.
you’ve taken this from me
speak, katy.
you leave me speechless every hour and god
i miss my words.
Do I speak? Do I remain silent? You…. have turned into an absent friend. Not in the fact that you’ve left, but rather, that I can’t get you to respond.
So. Do I let us drift apart? Or do I speak to you about my qualms? Which action is correct?
let the words flow and your mouth ramble to the point of creative starvation. let your mind take over and the brain instantly produces the intriguing conversations that will make your day interesting. let the daylight make you elated to the point of daydreaming and let the daydreams carry your thoughts into the evening. let the evening bring the sleep that will slowly engage you in the subtle dreams that leave you wondering as you awaken. let the morning’s sunrise again bring you the happiness and the cycle repeats itself again as you speak.
trying to explain too much about something thats not really necessary. People who love doing it is because they enjoy the sound of their voice more than anything in the world. I personally think it is useful only when necessary, and not so necessary when you are not sure of what you are going to say
Terrence stood before the podium. He wasn’t wearing pants, but he wasn’t expected to wear pants. This wasn’t a dream; no, much worse, it was the monthly budget committee of the nudist colony in which he lived. This month, he had not prepared as adequetly as he would have hoped.
i wish people could hear my heart speak.
how it aches and how it is sensitive. i wish my heart had the ability to speak about how i feel.
i can’t put it into words.. this pain and isolation.
i wish my heart could speak.
Just speak! Say something, say anything. Whatever comes to mind. It doesn’t matter that it isn’t perfectly articulated, or even if it sounds ridiculous, at least you put your opinion out there. When you do finally say that something, you’ve given yourself a chance. An opportunity you might say, to change the world, one ripple at a time.
Speak! What is this word?? This word gives us the people the right to tell others what we feel! Without this word,we would just be a carbon walking machine. Without this word, nothing would change.
Speak less, listen more.
A small man asks me my name repeatedly.
As if I’m to give him anything on command.
Even though the command is phrased as a question, I detest the imposition.
I say he is small, but it’s also true that he is not short in stature.
I mean to say that when he speaks, he aims to belittle me.
Because his confidence is dwarfed.
Mine is not.
And because this is fact; I have no name.
speaking is my number one fear still i hear the teacher order me in her harsh unforgiving tone “speak” and so i stand my breath hitching in my throat.
I speak through my actions, from my heart. I know you want to hear me say it, but I can’t. Not yet. I show you. I encircle you with my arms, entrance you with my lips. Please believe that I love you, even if I don’t always say it aloud.
People speak
when there minds need emptying,
When their souls need compassion,
When they need to hear their own problems vocalized,
To communicate.
To Idealize.
To wish.
To Hope.
To think.
Too much.
Too little.
With the wrong words to often.
With the right words too seldom.
People Speak.
People Speak.
People Speak.
To speak would be to reveal my love and therein lies the conflict. I love you with a love unheard of but i live in a body that refuses to express it. Oh if only my mouth would open and speak.
To speak is to express your thoughts… right? or do we only speak what we wish others to hear. For in speaking we publicly announce our thoughts, most of which remain internal and not for others to hear. Thinking and speaking is critical, lest you express something you didn’t wish to say. In short, words expose certain thoughts to the world, for better or for worse.
“speak” he said
I could not though. Words have never failed me so much. I could lose everything but my lips werent moving. I needed them to move.
To speak is to express your thoughts… right? or do we only speak what we wissh others to hear. For in speaking we publicly announce our thoughts, most of which remain internal and not for others to hear. Thinking and speaking is critical, lest you ex
She was quiet. Not too quiet, but quiet enough to know that most humans were unable to speak in the way they were designed. Yes they talk, very much, but they don’t speak to each other. They don’t understand each other. They don’t release their emotions in a good way. To speak without talking. It’s art.
speak. speak where gods can hear. where lords will bow to you. speak about what matters. about thw weather. use words to heal, not to hurt. Speak like you mean it to say “I love you” or “I forgive you”. use words to create and speak limitless throught works of art
Speak to me about the time
about the clock and ticks
and tocks
Speak to me about never
About then and now
And forever
You speak as if you did not hear what I just said.
Listen.
To me.
It would change your perspective on many things.
The things that I care about, that you seem to not notice.
Speak, yes.
Listen, yes.
Please for the sake of knowing what you’re getting into.
We sat there at the edge of the porch deep into the night. We didn’t say anything of consequence, but we knew that it would stick in our minds for a long time. I could see the light from inside the house like a glow around your cheeks, over strands of your hair, the mole around your mouth. I’d never experienced a night so full of hope.
He told me to speak in his most calm yet commanding voice. Standing in front of the white blinding light, he looked down on me and wait for my words. I stared back up at him and searched my mind. What could I possibly say that would be appropriate for this situation? The right answer, if there was one.
Words.
Speak to me about the time
about the clocks and ticks
and tocks
Speak to me about never
about then and now
and forever
I want so badly. To tell you. How much I love him. He’s my everything. But you’d never listen. The words “there’s this boy.” would set you off. But why? you know him. You like him. I know I’m young, But I love him so much. It’s the story, the boy and the girl who were best friends. They fell in love. I’ve known him for three years. If you’d only let me speak.
Speak. Something about this word makes me feel comfortable. It makes me feel like I could say whatever i wanted and it’d be okay. This is a kind of powerful word, i guess? I’m not sure what about it is powerful but yeah. To speak.. Hmm?
Speak about me whenever you feel low, that way you will find yourself among good memories of us. Do not forget the times we spent sitting by the bridge. Speak about me, and you will find yourself inbetween your words.
My mouth move and I don’t know what to say to you. Nothing I ever say is good enough. “Speak,” you keep telling me, and I am lost. It is like my lips are sewed shut; I am helpless, trapped like Helen Keller beneath these lips that cannot move, underneath this mask that is glued to my face.
I’m speaking! Hello world, I want to speaqk to you about speaking: speaking is a great form of communicating which involves talking to a lot of people at once, this is good if you have something important to say, if more good people spoke, the world would be a better place.
Speak your truth and you will be authentic and free.
“SHUT UP!”
The voice rang out against the frosted walls of the old school. The breath expelled clouded into a fine mist, puffing into the night air. There was a silence that followed, echoing around the empty field, in which no one dared to speak.
it takes so much for me to speak to anyone. won’t you come and see the shy lady in the corner, sitting here, wanting to be spoken to but with no idea what to say back to you. I laugh and shake with fear instead. Hide away my secret dread.
speak your mind, you might find pleasure. you might fight pain. you might learn how to think again.
Is your name Kaia? Gaia? Maya? Jedidiah?
No on that last one for sure, huh.
Well, figured I’d try.
How about Candice? Candy? Sandy? Mandy?
No, I don’t always rhyme, lady.
It’s just the way it all comes out sometimes.
Speaking of Mandy, did you know there was a song about her?
Say, by any chance is your name Berry?
I want to speak, to scream, to shout. I’m constricted— as if in one of those dreams, where you’re hurt, your inhibitions are lowered, but an anchor is weighing down my voice. A continous struggle to let out breath but nothing reaches past my lips. Something bad is happening, yet an unidentifiable force keeps me from a saving grace.
Speaking makes people nervous. They start to breath. Harder, deeper, faster. I, personally have been afflicted by the disease of speaking. I can say, it’s terrifying.
I spoke to him, he spoke to me, i was unsure what would happen. We were nervous and kept sneaking glances at each other. The chemistry fizzled, making sparks like stars glittering in the night sky. I giggled, he chuckled, we both made each other happy. Happy like little children snuggling up in their bed , warm and happy, perfectly content.
I speak about lots of things. Good things, bad things. I love to speak to different people about many different things. I speak what is on my mind. I speak about what is important to me.
Speaking is something a lot of people fear to do. I have a small voice, and I’m scared to speak. However, we shouldn’t be… We should SPEAK and stand up for the beliefs that we believe in. As Gandhi said, “We must become the change we wish to see in the world.”
We can make a difference if we speak and stand up for what we believe in.
say a word, say anything. now isn’t the time to lose yourself.
but i can’t.
you’ve taken this from me
speak, katy.
you leave me speechless every hour and god
i miss my words.
Do I speak? Do I remain silent? You…. have turned into an absent friend. Not in the fact that you’ve left, but rather, that I can’t get you to respond.
So. Do I let us drift apart? Or do I speak to you about my qualms? Which action is correct?
let the words flow and your mouth ramble to the point of creative starvation. let your mind take over and the brain instantly produces the intriguing conversations that will make your day interesting. let the daylight make you elated to the point of daydreaming and let the daydreams carry your thoughts into the evening. let the evening bring the sleep that will slowly engage you in the subtle dreams that leave you wondering as you awaken. let the morning’s sunrise again bring you the happiness and the cycle repeats itself again as you speak.
trying to explain too much about something thats not really necessary. People who love doing it is because they enjoy the sound of their voice more than anything in the world. I personally think it is useful only when necessary, and not so necessary when you are not sure of what you are going to say
Terrence stood before the podium. He wasn’t wearing pants, but he wasn’t expected to wear pants. This wasn’t a dream; no, much worse, it was the monthly budget committee of the nudist colony in which he lived. This month, he had not prepared as adequetly as he would have hoped.
There’s no reason for any of this.
And yet it is.
Will be.
Continue to be.
Until it ends.
And end it must.
Reborn is to recycling as blood is to rust.
Trust me when I speak.