Listen to the Words I Write

There's a problem with my mouth,

Apparently, I've misplaced my voice.

My vocal cords have gone on strike.

As if speaking is their choice!

It's a symptom of my craziness.

My therapist says "Complex PTSD."

I escaped my abusive husband,

But I'm still trapped by his legacy.

I freak out when people argue,

Even when they're only joking.

Scared to express a different opinion,

I don't want to be provoking.

I once had an impressive vocabulary,

And a smartass sense of humor.

"Worthless traits!'" Claimed an insecure man,

So I said "BYE!" to that fugly tumor!

One day while searching for my voice,

I sat down with a pen & paper.

An explosion - words I didn't know I had,

A call to arms, and me, a crusader.

I needed an outlet, I found an app;

Prose, a place to post my writing.

Be it sad, or angry, wistful or yearning,

Be it dark, when my demons are fighting.

A fake name & picture, now getting bookmarked,

My soul bleeds words set free from my head. 

Strangers know my secrets, my private thoughts. 

Yet don't judge, offering empathy instead.  

So many have touched my heart since we "met",

Through their writing, I know them too.

Anonymous profiles, bare naked souls.

And now I just want to say "Thank You!"

Inspirational authors of poetic gold. 

With encouragement, my confidence grows,

I'm proud to be part of this talented group,

I found my voice, this is why I love Prose.