Lost Voice

I sold my voice today. I was warned against it; I was told I was getting a rotten deal. I can never speak again, and in exchange, I lose everything I had to hide behind. I was forced to strip, one layer at a time, until the whole world could see me, through me, with nothing to guard me.

I can't speak to tell a lie.

I can't speak to cover my tracks.

I can't hide behind my words, but I can also no longer be bound by the limitations my foolish mind permits them to give me.

I was scared at first. I could feel every eye intensely upon me, judging me. And I couldn't say a word to sway or dissuade the judgement. Instinct told me to find a place to hide, but there was none; I realised suddenly that I was in a vast empty space, shared only by so many prying eyes.

But the more I felt the judgement and accusations, the less they burned my bared flesh. I couldn't speak to make excuses, and I had no disguise to mislead.

I sold my voice today. I was warned against it; but I bartered carefully and got exactly what I'd always needed.