Finding My Voice

I hide
my true voice,
the one
that speaks
of my heart
during remote,
reclusive hours
between
sleep and speculation.

First,
I need to decide:
am I the narrator
of my own creation
or a carefully-outlined
character
based on common
archetypes?

That remains
to be written.

Am I
the sarcastic stooge
who cracks jokes
to break
tension?
No.
My wit 
is dry,
deliberate
and it develops
after several drafts
with multiple revisions.

Am I
the impassioned parson
spewing
righteous indignation
due to the failings
of a fallen nation?
No.
I believe
in the constitutional
kindness
of humanity.
I refuse to succumb
to the pious sins
of self-selected judges.

Am I 
the romantic lead
from the pages
of check stand novels?
No.
I’ve sampled love,
but never
long enough 
to savor it.

My true tone
and rhythmic
heartbeat
changes
hour by hour,
day by day,
yet remains
guarded,
shackled
until keyboard taps,
uniting words
that liberate
my soul.

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