to speak and not be heard

let me speak about voice.

i can do this best by using my own as an example, yet i hesitate lest i speak too much about my insecurities for those are entities entwined as ironic lovers, bold and strong. i desire these bed mates part to allow new growth yet... i've grown so comfortable with my voice. it is me. it's soft and soothing. gentle and acquiescent. the type of voice that mixes play and love. it's easily trampled and dismissed. it's under heard and over stressed. the type of voice not taken seriously.

a giver and a giver. and a giver.

voice is an accessory to personality, like countenance and stance. for me, it speaks the deepest vulnerabilities in every nuance. i wear it on my face and i shirk and smirk and run away from speaking my truth.

i wonder if it's because i AM the things i fear i am or if it's just a fulfilled prophesy of my own.

voice. oh, to be silent and alone. to not speak to others and fear their voices. i could talk about emotional abuse but i won't.

voice. what is it? how do we change it? rather, how do we allow that change? and this is what i didn't want to talk about. my voice dragged it out. those insecurities come so naturally in expression, in cadence and tone, sitting on my tongue waiting for my voice to carry them...

so, let me talk about voice. let me talk not about expression but the repression of voice.

voice. oh, cruel master. gritted teeth and tight jaw. held back and swallowed blue until all you can do is scream or punch a wall. alone, of course.

second guess. pull away. and run. hide. squat and watch and work your courage. go over conversation in your head. prepare. prepare. prepare. and don't form deep relationships.

because of course you suck. and you're a bitch. oh, and don't forget how you're always wrong!

hide voice. protect voice.

voice is the window to the self. self is where you get hurt. voice and self, protect them both.

there's a part of me that doesn't associate with my voice. my voice is the part of me i show people and i am full of lies. my true self, my true voice, is hidden and she only comes out in silent darkness and this is my issue. i have no idea who i am. lies are meaningless. i am meaningless? i don't know. i really don't know why i sometimes blog since i don't associate myself with these words. ok, sure on some level i do. but mostly i want to bury myself in Spring soil and grow on my own until i'm ready to face the other flowers. i'm a runner and a dreamer and those things don't manifest well in reality, so i've been told.

but let me run! let me dream! let me find my true voice and sing to you. let us all find these things we crave in the deepest and most raw corner of ourselves.

let me be brave and courageous in taking on the next staircase and let me find my strength and endurance to follow it through.