“Singing.” Fiction. Based on a True Melody.

“When it’s overwhelming to say it with just words, it helps to have the music coming alongside you.”

-Marlaina Smith


Fiction. Based on a True Melody.

By Nikki Wicz


This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character, or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

Trigger Warning: our program often motivates people to discuss their trauma. If you find yourself feeling overwhelmed, please, take a step back to address emotional flashbacks and trauma before continuing to push yourself. If you are experiencing a medical emergency, call 911 or the National Suicide Hotline at (1-800) 273-8255.


There’s a song beating
In my chest but my hands
Have forgotten how to hold
A saxophone. 
I can fumble with the keys
All day but cannot recreate
The sound whimpering 
In my throat. 

Maybe it’s because I gave up
On music in high school, I let it
Become a letter on a transcript
In a trashcan years ago. I let it
Out in whispers when I was certain
No one could hear. 

Sometimes the beating becomes
Unbearable, my heart is out
Of rhythm and I must scream
To the tune on the radio. 
If you’re lucky, you’ll be
In the car beside me
Getting sliced by vocal shrapnel. 

And maybe, you’ll toss me
A compliment, like a coin in a well, 
To which I blush and promise
To never expose myself again. 

There’s a song beating
In my chest, and even if
You press an ear to my skin
And look into my eyes like 
Keyholes, you won’t hear it
Because I am still listening

And I don’t know how the melody goes. 

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