And carve a "Hello"
Out of my marble voice.
Before an exchange is made past introduction,
I stand there,
Hands crawling through the dark,
Gliding between muscle and nerve,
***** and blood,
Wrapped between and under
A bouquet of bone,
Traveling the tunnels behind my chest,
Spiraling humbly in and out of every rib
In the shape of the Special Beam.
Coddled in a diaphragm home,
My voice rocking back and forth
With a death grip on its shins,
Knees under chin,
Mumbling grievances of social disorder.
Courage dilutes in exhales,
Each breath shorter than the last,
Only enough brave in veins to utter
As I turn and walk away.
Its about looking for my voice, and failing.