This is the story of how I lost my voice -
But more importantly, how I found it again.
How I found the words caught behind spiderwebs in my throat, itching to be free,
How I found that once I stopped asking for donations, I learned to contribute
My own two cents.
Sometimes you need to be silent to realize that your voice is a symphony.
My voice is a symphony.
My voice is justice.
It is hands over the ears of the oppressed as I sharpen my tongue to slice the oppressors.
It is courage in the face of perceived inferiority, squashing the insecurities until they are just a nightmare.
It is a rocket ship propelling my ideas to the forefront of my mouth because...
Because they matter.
Poetry is my favorite dress.
My voice is the feature I want to show off.
©Jillian Murray, 2016