When I Stutter by Elizabeth Meade

Poem for Disabilities Pride Month

When I Stutter by Elizabeth Meade
 

Sometimes, m’s elongate,
grow long tongues to taste the last bit 
of breath my body has to offer.
 
Sometimes, i’s echo 
like the harsh cries of a seagull, 
try to fly far away from the nest of my mouth
only to circle the ocean of my uncompleted sentence.
 
Sometimes, my breath becomes caught
in the chamber of my throat, my head cocked back 
until the word —at last— launches out of my mouth like a bullet. 
or a punch.
 
(Sometimes, my soft, raspy voice 
provides no balm to soothe the ear.)
 
Sometimes, I remember Daddy said my voice  
sounds like Mommy’s. I rejoice then, as syllables
trip over one another like eager children 
rushing toward the playground 
with all the freedom her voice no longer has.
 
All that remains is the deep ache in my throat, 
vocal cords like mud stomped flat 
under the feet of my rowdy utterances.