I do not feel love’s warm caressing touch. I do not hear the beckoning call of the heart. I do not smell the aroma of acceptance. I do not taste the bitter end to the emotional ties of friends I never had. I do not see the familiar, reassuring face in the blurred image of millions of cold, bleak, heartless figures, not living for life, but existing towards death. No one, has ever known the real me, instead the face they gaze upon is that of a mask of my departed self. I do not give life any hope or misguided faith, for as long as I’m cursed to not hear nor speak the silent words of humanity. My voice will carry no farther than the thick, cold, death-white walls of my mind. As I speak I dig my grave and as I listen to the agonizing murmurs of the soul I am hanged from my guilt wrenched neck as the noose of society pulls out with every ticking of the clock my last breaths. Every conversation is a cruel reminder of fate’s sick joke known as life. I am bombarded with emotional quos and bodily gestures I can’t begin to understand. Then as I try to make meaning of their intentions, the subconscious displays of mind and heart reveal their true nature to be that of a riddle that for most people has the answers pre-written in their very being. This “silent” speech governs the fabric of our society and by the rearing of faith’s repulsive head. I was cursed to be both mute and deaf to these unspoken words. If it takes a soul to understand emotion and hear the tune sung by the heart, than am I without a soul or is mine just lying dormant never to awaken? Why must I live to never feel the joy of a true companion? How does it seem fair to see the birds fly high, never to be able to be free to soar in the skies? If I have no heart and your heart is what carries on beyond your physical being, than what will be left of me when I die? Is mine forever to be, an untold legacy? All that anyone, will know of me are the dull, meaningless words on this paper. Even if some one were to hear my tale, they can never know me as me. No man shall know a curse greater than that of a life ending with death. No matter how much one thinks they can relate to me, they will never feel the awful agony of always being un spoken and un heard, they can never know the pain of conversing mute…