A lot of the time,
I wonder what it felt like to be an actor in a silent film.
I ponder what it was like to be able to speak freely, and have people curious about your thoughts,
what it was like to actually be able to speak them at all.
Things always seem to pique interest when no one knows what's going on beneath them.
Women and the mystery that they're supposedly meant to have,
cups of coffee, and she silently wondering how many she'd had for the morning.
However, I also questioned how frustrating it was.
I may have the ability to speak and possibly be heard if anyone glanced my way,
yet they may have some answers that they would never be able to let you in on.
They can catch the killer in a film noir, and we may never even know that one existed.
I wonder if they ever wanted to be known for something other than the way that life seems to be from the outside.
I also wonder if they know that looking out from the inside burns just as much of a fire.