Losing My Voice

Just the words,
being thrown at me out of left field,
conjured up thoughts
trying to scream,
trying to say anything,
and failing.

You’re losing your voice.
she said to me,
and as I heard the words,
I could feel my face turning bright red.
I could feel the world narrowing around me,
and the tears building behind my eyes.

I’ve never claimed to be the best writer,
I’ve never even thought I’m all that good.
I just write what I can, when I feel it.

I’ve been going through alot lately, I know.
I’m doing everything I can just to stay above water,
and I know that my writing has suffered for it.
Life has been frustrating lately.
Life has been hard,
and what I can say on here
usually is the leftovers of all the stuff
that I can actually process,
after its been muddled
and stomped on
and left for waste.

And it’s really hard to write about that kind of stuff.
It’s really hard to write at all,
even though I’d scarcely call what I do writing.
More like …slamming your head on a keyboard and calling it ‘art’.
And I don’t even like that kind of art.
I can barely even write the date down right half of the time,
much less create a meaningful, “heart-wrenching” post.

This is going to be blunt…
Anytime anyone says that to me,
I know that I should just hold on tight until it’s all over.
I don’t do blunt. Because I’m so sensitive.
My dad used to tell me about when I was little,
I couldn’t have been older than a year and a half.
I was in the kitchen messing with pots and pans,
like I shouldn’t have been.
He yelled my name,
and not only did I put everything down immediately,
I started crying as if I’d actually been punished.
That’s just how I am.

I don’t even disagree with her, that much.
I guess I am just shocked.
I’m not angry, because she is right.
So this is not about her,
this isn’t about how her words
may or may not have hurt.
This is about me. She is right.

I am losing my voice. It’s hard not to.
Sometimes life tousles you around a little too much,
and we all reach our breaking point eventually.
Little sleep, bad days, frustrating life.
Would anybody else fare as well
against those adversaries?
Would their writing?

So, Yes. I’ve noticed.
Yes, I am aware.
But Yes, I am trying.
Though I might be nearing my breaking point,
though I might seem like I’m down for the count.
I am not. I have the spirit and heart of a runner,
I never give up.

Though my voice might be exhausted,
and diminished; It is not lost.
Not permanently, at least.
Just temporarily.

Cycles…like the Phoenix.
Your wings are spent now…
but your heart never changes.
From the ashes… you will rise…
Even bigger and better…

I always do, so don’t give up on me.