Scream

I never learned how to scream.

Whenever I want to

Whether in life or in dreams

My voice curls up in my throat

And it comes out as a weak, raspy thing

All the velvet in it gone

All the honey made into hard crystals

That bury themselves in my throat the more I try to scream

And no amount of muscle knowledge

Or voice coaching

Can make it come out

My loudest voice is a whisper

Low, soft, clear

But how I want to scream.

I never learned to scream

Because I was always afraid

Of what my voice could do.