rarely do my lips actually open, anymore
it's always my hands that do the talking
mimicking my own voice
with the sounds of pens scribbling against crumpled and reused pieces of paper

the speech has to fight through my mouth to see light
having been out of order for such a long time, my tongue has been algaefied, my teeth eroded, and my lips rusted
social media
has killed my
social skills
and i'm two feet tall, trapped behind a sheet of glass, with an empty speech bubble hovering over my head