Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

My Voice

First formed in a scream,
the dreamlike state where I am passed from one pair of arms to another, back to my mother and I scream,
I scream because I made it,
and if I can make it to the outside world,
then that’s another step towards world domination.

It gargled and goo gooed at first as I tried to form words,
only finding sounds and soft coos as night falls.
I used to talk all night,
in my own language,
with my own little voice,
that grew stronger and sterner,
before becoming soft as the world’s intentions descended,
but I will heal her.

She has changed,
been seen as sultry and shrill in equal measure,
but she’s mine,
and I won’t let her be taken.

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