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Humans Are Bad Listeners
<p>Humans…</p><p>They nod like they understand.</p><p>Eyes fixed, faces calm,</p><p>But their minds? already gone.</p><p>Typing replies before you’re done,</p><p>Building answers before the pain has even begun.</p><p><br/></p><p>We live in a world where conversation’s a contest,</p><p>Where “I understand”</p><p>Means, “Now it’s my turn to sound depressed.”</p><p>Where empathy’s rehearsed,</p><p>And listening is... cursed... </p><p>A performance, not a connection.</p><p><br/></p><p>I’ve learned silence screams louder than confession.</p><p>That “I’m fine” is just suppression</p><p>After ten ignored paragraphs of expression.</p><p><br/></p><p>People say,</p><p>“You can talk to me.”</p><p>But when you finally do,</p><p>They start looking for the nearest exit too.</p><p>Their eyes wander,</p><p>Their phones vibrate,</p><p>And suddenly your story</p><p>isn’t heavy enough to make them patient enough or wait...</p><p><br/></p><p>So you swallow it back </p><p>Pretend you never said it.</p><p>You start labeling your emotions as “invalid.”</p><p><br/></p><p>Maybe that’s the curse of being human... </p><p>We listen to respond, not to understand.</p><p>We hold sympathy in one hand,</p><p>And a story in the other,</p><p>Waiting to take our stand.</p><p><br/></p><p>We treat words like mirrors,</p><p>Searching for our reflection</p><p>In someone else’s confession.</p><p><br/></p><p>You say you’re drowning,</p><p>And they say, “Same.”</p><p>But they’re dry... </p><p>Explaining how they almost drowned once too,</p><p>As if pain is a game,</p><p>And empathy’s a flame</p><p>That burns out once it’s not about you.</p><p><br/></p><p>So we shrink.</p><p>We edit our grief into captions and memes,</p><p>Turn our screams</p><p>Into quiet things</p><p>Because being “too honest” feels extreme.</p><p><br/></p><p>We stop explaining.</p><p>We stop repeating.</p><p>We start smiling.</p><p>Because humans are bad at listening.</p><p><br/></p><p>Not because their ears don’t work,</p><p>But because their hearts do </p><p>Too full of echoes,</p><p>Too noisy with their own blues.</p><p>They mistake their ghosts for your truth.</p><p>They think they heard you,</p><p>But they only heard proof</p><p>That they’ve felt pain too.</p><p><br/></p><p>So next time someone says,</p><p>“Talk to me… I’m listening,”</p><p>Ask them</p><p><br/></p><p>Which version of me are you hearing?</p><p>The one I said?</p><p>Or the one your mind’s engineering?</p><p><br/></p><p>Because that’s the tragedy... </p><p>We all crave understanding,</p><p>But we never sit still long enough</p><p>To feel the landing.</p><p><br/></p><p>So even when you finally speak your truth</p><p>Raw, trembling, and bruised</p><p>It still echoes back to you.</p><p><br/></p><p>And in that echo,</p><p>You realize something cruel but true.. </p><p><br/></p><p>Humans are bad listeners,</p><p>But worse at being silent too.</p>
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