Serena Malcolm

Am I behind glass
that’s sound proofed?
Opaque?
Am I uttering words
just for my sake?
Am I a mime?
Am I dumb?
Has my voice become hoarse?
Do I thunder out silence
with deafening force?
Is my tongue wrapped in barbed wire?
Are my lips stapled closed?
Do little men have my larynx
in a strangle hold?
Have they choked me
to within an inch of my life and let go?
Or is the answer to each question
an echoing no?
And if that’s so
then this must be purgatory;
Why else would the world
always ignore me?