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A mute sickness

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I can't speak,
my voice is too weak;
shallow whispers and broken sighs,
useless kisses and sad goodbyes.
I can't respond and can't talk back,
my trembling throat a shameful hack.
I'd say to you as you say to me,
I love you so much and I wish you could see;
you are my world and you are my love,
free and beautiful as a flying dove,
but my lungs are trapped,
my body unmapped,
this simple sickness is worse to be,
as this voice has always been useless to me.



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