the Words.

I miss  Words.
Tracheostomy. Such an ugly word, but the meaning is even uglier.
You don’t control your breath anymore. Such an awful feeling. Imagine a tube becoming part of you. With a machine at the other end, deciding when you get to breathe and when you don’t.
What doctors, in the haste of the surgery, forgot to tell me, is that words and voice… just… poof… went away. Disappeared. Were gone. Lost.
A man with no words is like a sea with no waves. A wood with no trees. A sky with no clouds.
This is how I feel. An instrument with no sound.