Forces
to bursting point.
Busting at the seams.
I.
MUST.
SING!!!
The music
speaks.
I'm moved.
I need to react.
But I can't.
I am still.
My insides are angry.
They push at my voice.
Willing it to work.
Without my permission,
Sound Erupts.
I quickly cease
to enjoy.
Listening is torture.
But I'd rather be tortured,
than not be here to hear.
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