A dry, brittle throat hides the voice <br />I’ve been searching for throughout my life <br /> <br />I lost something along the way, <br />something that changes how mirrors reflect <br /> <br />Watching rust form on the iron railings <br />temporarily calms the pacing cells under my cold skin <br /> <br />There’s a reason fright saturates my veins <br />with uncertainty and truth <br /> <br />I’ve never learned to grow up<br /><br />Amy Backus<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/strengthened-hands-with-weakened-knees/
