I wake from a dream, A dream in which I can sing, My voice gritty yet powerful, My chest full as the lights come in, I go to speak in the waking world Just a shiver of my sleeping sound falls out. I am weak, I am empty, I am confused, I am quiet, My voice carries no further than the ring in my ears, A chorus of noise crashes through me, unfiltered, My walk and sound fades in rhythm and meaning, I imagine my tired voice using the right words at the right pitch, tone, and timbre. I lay down, I do not sleep, I do not cry, I do not sing.