Notepad, personified.

i open up—
expectingly—
waiting, patiently
for words to come
out of me.
but
they
don't.

they are trapped inside,
caught behind
the damned dam.
first going through
so many
trials and tribulations
before they are worthy enough
to meet you.

failures are seized by
the nooks and crannies
of a forsaken mind;
filtered out
before they can ever
reach daylight.
recycled and put to the test
once more.

only the winners
may be strewn across
you—
the blank canvas—
and then they may meet
your white shirt
and open ears.
i speak.

and maybe you will listen.