I have a voice. Though it is often ignored or, at best, brushed aside like swatting an insistent mosquito, it is there. The murmur inside raising itself to screams, comes to the surface as mere whispers, so easily dismissed. And yet, I scream and rage, projecting inside so loudly that I cannot hear the outside world, and the echoes of my thoughts reverberating within my head deplete the energy to utter the words I want them to hear. My desires and needs go unspoken because I am unable to push them past the barriers of us all. I have no voice.