Dear Poetry,

Young and naive 

I was unable to express myself vocally

Constantly and consistently searching

Searching for something that would not hurt me

I've tried time after time 

Sometimes reluctantly

Speaking of what made my heart ache so very much

But, my words would get tangled up

Like the vines that intertwine with the branches

My mind would go a hundred miles per hour

While my voice uttered not one single sound

"Speak up!"

"Why won't you speak?"

I tried to

But, every time I tried

It was as if my mouth was stitched with thread from corner to corner

It took me such a very long time

To find some type of outlet

To express my thoughts and emotions

Without feeling so isolated

Then, poetry came along

With its outstretched arms

Guiding me with the touch of lingustic elements

Some lines in cohesive sentences

Others in very,

Short

Fragments

Poetry became my voice

It became a part of me

Whether through dismal heartbreak

Or sincere gratitude

I could always reach for poetry

As a means to survive

Sincerely,

Silence