I had a voice,
That extended down the bank
And into the depths below,
Each chord traversed mountains,
Seeped into sealed walls,
It permeated.

I had a voice, it roused
Set sail to the distant point,
Reunited with moon-glow water,
Air stinging with sea scent, my accent,
Racing toward the tunnel end,
It roared.

I had a voice, it wounded
Strained to be sharp enough
To excise those labels engraved
on itself.

Hammered, hardened a softness
Into a weapon, but is it really
If the hands shake too badly to use it,
It trembled.

I had a voice, it strengthened,
Summoned tears from
Those fluorescent lights
Buzzing in hospital waiting rooms,
Spun across the line
Marking falling from drowning,
Squeezed a hand so that
Sweat mixed binds together
To hold back from the other side,
It pulled.

And even when that voice slips away
From the realm I am tethered to, headed to
I still had a voice,
I still have that voice.

I am finding music not quiet
after storm
I am rebirthing at my burial
I am feeling these old scars when
I breathe
I am walking down railroad tracks,

Pray, let them somewhere turn back,
The weapon is shattered,
I am forging something new.

But I have a voice that sings
And now that’s all it has to be,
My song creeps out of hiding.