​speak Eliza McLamb

I grew up in the stairwell hearing fights in the kitchen
I never could talk loud enough so I learned how to listen
I'm good at being small
I'm good at needing nothing at all

I find my place in other people's shadows
Leave the party late, break down crying on the way home
And you call me, you tell me, I listen intently
I wait for you to ask me
How is it you forgot how to speak?
But you don't