My Voice


What is the sound of your own voice? (Prompt credit: Kat McNally) 


This was honestly a tough one, so I thought that I could best capture it in a poem. 



My Voice

Soft with a slight rasp
Like velvet with a tinge of vinegar
Smoke without the cigarettes
Coffee and mulled wine warmed over fire
A Midwestern twang rolling off feathered cotton
Snark and Sass as she grits her teeth
Giving way to her Chicago roots
A woman’s mind with a child’s heart
That girl still slides down the chords from time to time
When she’s excited:
That part of her comes out to dance
When she’s tired: feeling small, perhaps hidden by
Her own circumstances and other’s pain
When she’s comfortable, and the walls come down
She laughs the same way she has all her life, regardless of age
Giggle, pause, giggle; a short whimper, sly like a secret-keeper
Let’s not focus on the sound, but how she uses it
A near whisper, but fierce
Soft, but strong
Becoming braver as a time passes
Calling to be heard against those that flutter above her
Like a flock of obnoxious birds
The ones that tell her what tone defines who she is
When they struggle to stop and listen

She wants to scream, but stands firm instead
She celebrates without a second thought
A voice of joy that aches with passion
Never going out

photo credit: -Reji via photopin cc

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