Stutter by Kirsten L. Klaus

Stuttering is horrible.

When it starts my words get stuck in my throat,

Pressing against my esophagus,

Choking me until it shoots out of my mouth,

Multiplying as it slowly leaves my lips,

Making me stammer over the word,

I try to push it through,

But it makes me sound weird.

Or just outright dumb.

When I feel a stutter,

I say nothing at all,

Hoping to avoid the embarrassment of my speech.

Of all the eyes staring at me,

And the Questions gleaming in them,

Their laughs at the tips of their tongues.

But it is unavoidable.

Eventually, I must talk,

And everyone knows that I stutter.

I try to stop the stutter coming on,

Breathing before I speak,

Thinking of what I will say before I say it,

Stretching out the word so I will not stutter,

But they rarely ever work.

Breathing just clogs my throat further,

Thinking about my words will bring a stutter,

And stretching out my words make me sound weirder.

With no way to avoid or help it,

I stutter,

Hoping one day it will vanish.