by Georgia McDade

I need to say something.

I have to say something.

I want to say something.

But I don’t know what to say.

I knew I would have to say something.

What do I say?

I DO NOT KNOW WHAT TO SAY!

I know I cannot not say something.

I can say something.

I need to say something.

I have to say something.

I want to say something.

I don’t want to say the wrong something.

But what is the RIGHT something?

I know why there’s a problem: I do not want you

to have this pain, yet I know all the wanting

in the world won’t erase the pain.

Perhaps you can tell me what to say,

what you wish to hear.

Perhaps I can say it.

But then, that does not work.

I’m the one who must say something, to you.

Selfish me!

I want you to say something, not just anything,

but something.

I go from all of these things to say to nothing to say.

And the real problem is this: what I want to say is,

“Please say something to me.”

I always want you to say something.

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Georgia S. McDade is a fifty-year resident of Seattle and former professor of English. As a youngster she wrote and produced plays for her siblings, neighbors and church youth. A charter member of the African-American Writers’ Alliance, which meets regularly at the Columbia City Library, McDade began bringing her original stories to an appreciative public in 1991. She lives in the Columbia City neighborhood.