My Voice

 

 

The sensation was like lying on the bottom of a pool 

 

Weightless yet heavy 

 

A blue blanket wrapping me in eerie silence. 

 

Someone’s heart pounding inside of my ears, but it couldn’t be mine. 

 

My heart has shattered into a million shards and stuck into my chest 

 

Making every breath more difficult, filling up hollow lungs. 

 

He was gone, but what was I to do? 

 

 

I had to do something 

 

Anything. 

 

I had to speak out and make my cry louder 

 

But my mouth opened and released nothing but 

 

Silence. 

 

So I picked up my pencil, 

 

Teeth marks near the eraser from contemplation, 

 

And simply began. 

 

 

That is when I found my voice. 

 

I have always had a flammable heart, that feels and loves so deeply

 

A soul that aches for people, things, and times 

 

Lost. 

 

I allowed my fiery heart to flow directly from the pencil to the page, allowing sweet, sweet 

 

Relief. 

 

Like a musician who creates melodies from silence, 

 

I too was able to create a masterpiece, simply by filling the blankness

 

With words I did not know were there. 

 

I wrote to understand, to clear my crowded mind. 

 

From the second I shakily grasped that marred, crooked pencil

 

I found it. 

 

My purpose 

 

My passion 

 

My voice. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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