I would write you a poem in the language our bodies speak, but I’m afraid that sometimes I interpret things differently than other people. I’m afraid I am backwards. I’m afraid I’ve swallowed too many words that I couldn’t say, and they collect in the pit of my stomach making me feel heavy at times I should feel light. Every once in a while they come up all together until I’m pouring them out to the wrong people at the wrong times. These words weren’t meant for you, but thank you for listening. Thank you for helping me learn how to speak again. Thank you for helping me me feel light.