A loving voice call her by her true name.
Silent she spoke for all who felt the same
And did not could not speak. Hers was the word
that echoed voiceless, screamed repeated pain
they had not let her speak. Locked her away
from face and voice and self she tried to say.
Breathless she said. A dull thud yet again
breaks in our heart. But not the same this time.
She left her words as will and witness. Chose
to end, but not to let the grave enclose
her testament. I put it in a rhyme.
Leelah is dead. Her voice is not yet passed.
She speaks that of such deaths hers might be last.