When I can't speak:

I slip away,

and the coarse strings of time

cut into my fingertips

as I pluck at the instruments

in life’s great symphony;

Wounding the harmonies

and spreading discord through

all the melodies I’ve so cherished.

In such a way,

my mouth shall close around

those sounds and feed

the growing silences in me

until I can't scream.

Then you are satisfied;

when my heart ill sings

of joy and all her merits.