Helen Keller

I want to show the world
that I’m not Helen Keller.
I’m not made of bricks,
I’m not made of stones.
I’m made of skin, and blood,
and fragile white bones.

I’m not depressed,
but I know how to cry.
Do you realize I analyze
every move you make to see if
I’ll get hurt?

I don’t know what you’re thinking,
but I know how to hear.
And everything you’ve said goes in one ear
and never comes out the other.

I’m not one for shouting,
but I know how to speak.
I don’t care if you want to help,
I can articulate, verbalize, cohere.

I’m not Helen Keller,
but let’s play pretend.
We’ll put plugs in our ears,
and shut up our mouths,
cover our eyes,
and never make another sound.