You stole my voice, but I let
you lock it away. Behind neck kisses,
lazy Sundays, and “who’s texting yous.”
Don’t worry baby,
I found it between the cracks
of your fingers, wrapped
around my neck, you tried to stop
the word vomit. Nice try.
You can’t mute
me. Watch me throw up,
watch me wail.
Your ego is deafening, as if you were afraid
of mine being louder than yours.
Well, I’m fucking screaming,
and I hope your ear drums shatter.
Perfect perforation.
You can’t shush me.
My voice is not cracking,
bitch, did I stutter?
Nope.
But, no hard feelings, right? ’Cause this
new dude says he likes it when I
scream.