Proveyer of words

(here's one of my latest pieces, it's a slam poem, so, it might be formatted a little odd, because of how it's spoken outloud)

I am not the most masterful, fantastical proveyer of words
I am merely a vessel, a transubstantiating vessel
Contained by flesh, skin and bone, meat to speak
speak and be heard they once said, well all of them are now dead,
dead along with dreams, one I half-remember, even
maybe something about ballet shoes, a tutu, a dress…
but, I digress.
I do not create
create would be to procreate, masticate and reverberate
reverberate the syllables, the dialogue, the diction,
Don’t forget the hyperbolic friction!
It isn’t about the words
Las idiomas que…
Oh English, I’d say is my forte
but then again, I’d have to say
I’m not the best proveyer of words.