My favorite voice in the whole world doesn't belong to me. My voice isn't sweet, it'll never comfort or cry, it'll never submerge you in laughter or fill up a room with light

My voice is hollow from being gutted from the inside out

My voice is scratchy from screams of torture i always seem to self- inflict

My voice is dry from being bound like Tantalus, my head just above the water

My voice isn't Julep or mint. It's barbed with wires and drowned in the sting of whiskey, rum, cognac, or anything that burns enough to give me a taste of myself. My favorite voice in the entire world doesn't belong to me because it isn't one, its many. It's the sound on the radio or on albums. My favorite voice is the hum a of a string perfectly timed with lyrics in orchestral motion. The sound of the noises that bounces off the walls of you're body. The twitch in your fingers when you hear an accompanying beat, swaying like your being washed out to sea because if I were to be submerged in any sound, I'd want it to be my favorite voice.

Because I've learned that I love my voice best when it's drowned in music.