to learn to speak is a trait we gain at school.
we are taught the alphabet from a young age,
how to sound out letters, and spell out difficult words.
we then learn to read our favourite books, and beg mami to read it late at night, a towel wrapped around her dark hair.
eventually, we begin to read novels,
long and adventurous,
that allow us to escape our pain and morbid thoughts.
pain was like a ship, it sailed heavy seas,
eventually, ending its course, and drowned.
my pain disappeared with every rustling page,
seeping through the lines, and hiding at the bottom of the page.
to speak these words out loud is a power i hold, capable of reciting
the story by heart.
to speak, to move my tongue is magic.
to speak, to narrate stories of stars and skies.
to speak, to think.