(listen to the poem, read by Diane R. Wiener)
If ninety percent of human communication is non-verbal then why am I not enough on the days I have no words, the times when the connection between my brain and my tongue slams shut; when I become unglued, unstuck, untethered, suddenly unable to illuminate the problem with language, because sometimes my brain just slams shut, just severs the wires connecting one part to the other, leaving me hopelessly bereft, adrift at sea, and it’s at these moments and it’s on these days, that all I want from you is wordless devotion, the adoration of your hand clenched tightly in mine, but all I get is silence, all I get is long stares, all I get is slow, confused blinks and I want you to know now, here on this page if nowhere else —
that this hurts me more than any words will ever be able to say.
About the Author
Gideon William Hale is a queer, trans, autistic poet who is still trying to figure out where he comes from and where he wants to be from.