Sometimes I don’t want to (can’t) speak.
Many things are on my mind
plays tricks until I feel fine (or not).
Sometimes I’m quiet
because I know it can’t hurt anyone,
until I’m shaken and told
Silence can be worse than
asking “what’s wrong?” or saying “that’s wrong.”
Sometimes I’m just still in the silence:
Being close to the ones I love,
watching them laugh and wondering too much.
Am I happy too?
And sometimes I like to share,
with the loved ones in my life,
silence spoken through bites of food.
Ezequiel Espiricueta is a writer from Southeast Los Angeles. Through his writings and efforts in environmental justice he hopes to give back to his community. He loves to read in his free time.