Why don't you understand the way I speak?

I hate the image of why people can't retaliate the counterfeit of how the words I speak are mine and mine alone..when I write nothing stops me I say things with out saying them not with out thinking..
they are already there..When I speak they look at me with a gaze with a enemy saying that I am not like them.
I stand writing with a paper not writing a slogan..but something more than just a title.
I'm writing what I want to say so I could live in not harmony but a illusion that underestimates every breathe I take to a unlimited a feature of who and I once was and they way I speak is nothing but a linger of words a language you cannot hear but damages you incredibly I am not a image I am not a language
I am a voice.
A voice of no words that speaks of silence yet
speak of sound.
I am illiterate to so many things but..I am never illiterate to myself.