Words.

I open my mouth to speak,
those words that refuse to come out.
They play all day in my head,
they mock my helplessness.
Speech becomes an impediment,
a gift so far taken for granted.
An ear to listen is too much to ask for,
my stories remain in the dark hidden.
Sound translated into ink is solace,
for a reluctant soul in denial.
This prison in black and blue,
is my gateway to redemption.