kerumie's review

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3.0

Sometimes a voice--have you heard this?--
wants not to be a voice any longer and this longing
is the worst of longings.


i was searching for another book when i stumbled across this one. the title staring up at me in huge capital letters as though recognizing one of its own. it felt wrong to look away, so i took it with me, started reading it even before i'd gotten home. fast forward twenty minutes and i'm crying on the bus. i don't know what to say other than i, too, have been trying to learn how to breathe around others. only recently i was watching home videos of myself as a kid, my mother saying how long it took for me to begin speaking, how my father was worried there was something wrong with me, and all i could think was how much it made sense. it makes sense too, then, that i have turned to writing, like so many others before me. thank you for your voices.
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