Dear Speaker,
You are my keeper.
Keep me from saying the words I am too afraid to say.

Dear Speaker,
I am weaker.
When I speak I do not like what I hear. It’s not whole. It’s not complete.

Dear Speaker,
I want you to stop.
The letters and words you utter do not define me.

Dear Speaker,
Your words are failing.
You are failing.

Dear Speaker,
My throat is swollen with words unspoken.

Dear Speaker,
Do not bother with me.
My silence is not for you to consume.

Dear Speaker,
Ask yourself, what if.

What if the air could speak.
Will it tell stories of last breathes?

What if the earth could preach.
Will it make our ears bleed?

And what if.

What if I could speak.
What if I was able to speak.
What if my throat is not heavy any more.
What if my voice stops shaking.
What if my lips stops quivering.

Dear Speaker,
I would say it all. I would put it all on the table until it sinks in the ground.

Dear Speaker,
Why don’t you listen?