My voice is my soul peering out from between the trees.
It is a child gazing in wonder at it's mother as the world turns grey.
My voice looks in adoration at three tombstones and shouts their stories onto the page.
It is something I can always call my own and will never lose.
My voice is my own. It is my eyes and ears and mouth and heart.
My voice is my love and my anger and my hate and my truth.
My voice is loud and full of hope and clarity and pain.
My voice is my own.
It belongs to no other.
Not a bee nor a bear may ever pilfer this treasure from me.
My voice is a jewel, a treasure, a weight and a burden.
I love my voice as much as i hate it and more.
My voice is my downfall and ressurects me daily.
My voice is not yours.
My voice is the world.
As am I.
