Bottled up scream

i wonder what sound would escape my lips if I let it or if it would even come out at all in my dreams when I need to the most

i felt it inside me a shaken soda bottle released in hisses of air or singing at the top of my lungs because people are less likely to call the cops on someone singing than shattering the silence on these dark, empty streets

i don’t know how I keep going, with this tumbling inside me as I bite my tongue and clench my jaw out of fear of speaking up for myself or saying something silly not wanting to offend

in stilted, stunted words i write little toy soldiers tripping off my tongue not matching the passion i feel inside

-Riley Quinn Farmery

****** I keep a lot of things bottled up. I’ve spent a lot of time walking around feeling like I need to scream. To let loose all of those emotions and hear it reverberate against buildings and pierce through the quiet night. Walking through streets of peaceful houses I want to pull out my hair and scream until I can’t scream anymore.

Expect, in my dreams when I needed to I couldn’t. I have a lot of nightmares where bad guys are after me, and I have to protect myself and my family. In some of my dreams it’s just me and a man. While I’m in danger I open my mouth and nothing comes out.

One tipsy night in Boston a friend of mine and I roamed the streets. I had asked him if he ever felt like screaming, and found out that he thought it would be beneficial. We spent that night walking and yelling whenever we wanted to. While he was afraid to be his loudest I found out that I could wail so loudly that it would echo off buildings and still resound in our ears once it had faded. I remember standing in the Commons and screeching at the top of my lungs. People echoed us and the residents in the buildings over the park must have hated us. That night I found out that if I opened my mouth sound would come out.

For my last day of poetry class this past semester we were going to meet in the classroom, read our poetry, then walk to a bar/diner/restaurant. A handful of my classmates and I were late, and missed reading in class. I saw them going downstairs in an elevator then had to jog to catch up. I begged my teacher to let us stragglers read there so that we wouldn’t feel left out. The place was boisterous, so our teacher told us we had to project. The first person who read was kind of quiet, and we had to lean in to hear him.

When I got up and started reading the words “I wonder what sound would escape my lips if I let it” came out in a shout, surprising me and my classmates. I was not expecting to be that loud and actually had to be quieter. But there was my answer. I’ve learned over the years to be able to speak loudly when I have to.

This past year I have been beginning to start working on things in my life that I need to address. Writing helps me to break down my issues and become more aware of myself, and blogging has been a huge step in starting to find my voice.

-Riley Quinn Farmery

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