My Voice

My voice isn’t mad at me
I actually thought it was furious with me
I wrote poems about how I lost it
And I felt guilty every time I admitted it
But my voice isn’t mad at me
And it never left me
I didn’t know
I thought I kicked it out of my home
When I didn’t speak
I really thought I would never be able to again
Instead, my voice hid behind my throat
Sometimes it hid in the pit of my stomach
And it waited patiently
Watched me analyze and overanalyze the things I did not do
It told me that I only paid attention to what I lacked and because I only saw with that perspective
I would never notice that it was in me all along
My voice isn’t mad at me
And it finally showed itself to me
Well actually I finally saw it because my perspective changed
I didn’t know I had within me everything I needed
Everything I need to come back to myself

Angelica Flores

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