Time for language

As long as I keep pouring hard enough,
I can swim a little bit.
I never go too far from the side,
Otherwise my panic won't be inhibited.

The best part is, I feel some ground under my feet.
They... who completely avoid water, know what I mean.

I keep myself floating, but really don't ask me how.
Always fighting, not to drown makes me sad
and unimaginably tired.

I'm just comparing it to swimming,
because that's how I have to experience my laaggeletterdheid unfortunately.
I can float, I can float,
but I can't even get a nice full throttle.

I wish I could write the way I talk.
I wish I could read what's written there.

In the supermarket I look a lot at the pictures
and a credit credits go way too fast for me.
Manuals and/or instructions for use,
are for me a disaster, really where they are a riot.

I can hide my “lack” for years and still very well,
Yet I see no reason to praise myself in this.

I'm ashamed and I'm not buying it,
But you know, I don't want to hide anymore, and that gives hope.

I don't want to lie anymore and say I forgot my glasses.
No, I don't want it anymore. It's gnawing at my conscience.


I don't want to go to the neighbor all the time,
It doesn't feel right anymore, it doesn't feel good anymore.
I no longer want to float, float and be dependent.

I want to swim in that big, wild sea,
and even though that seems almost unattainable to me...
I refuse to hide any longer,
I, too, have rights and therefore a place in our society.

by: a Voice of Thoughts www.angelienahuis.nl

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