My voice changes. Sometimes it is silent, letting written words and carefully signed words take its place.
Sometimes, it is the soft, timid whisper of an unsure child, struggling to find the words to speak. The words are there, I know them, yet I cant find the exact word I want, so I struggle, stumbling over words, mixing meanings and praying someone will understand.
My words are rushed, like one who must say all they can before they are forgotten, or for fear that if not shared now, the words never will be.
My words are chosen carefully, with much struggle. My voice has always left me weak and uncertain so it is no surprise my writing has the same fate.
My voice..well it constantly changes.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
