She'll scream again,
Because she swears none of them can hear her voice,
She says the words are too loud.
She'll weep once more,
Because her thoughts can't be heard by those who think
She doesn't give a fuck.
She's running out of time,
And she knows it, sitting motionless
With others' words in her hands.
She clutches them and loves them and hates them
Because they're not hers, not his.
She's lost the will to speak.
And if you listen, she'll tell you all about how he ripped out her voice box,
And she'll say that as her words rest in her bloodied hands.