MY VOICE

Growing up, I was faulty when, it came to having a voice.   I would get tounge-tied, and could never get the words to come out as I wanted them.

Over the years, my faultiness turned into resilence.  I lost my voice, I lost my power.

My mind became the walls of a prison, that would not shatter.  For I could not say, what was need to be said.

I became alone, and withdrawn. Knowing that, no one could understand; much less know, my thoughts.  

Over time, I would lock away, my thoughts like a buried treasure.

Little did, that my shovel would be a pen, and my world a paper.

If you want to know me read me.  If you ask me to speak, look in between the lines.   Ask me to stand up for what I believe in, give me a paintbrush, and  a canvas, then I will show you.

My name is no longer Resilence.  It's finally, Kelyn.