Questions, emotions, thoughts
Stew in the recesses of my mind
Winds gathering speed
Bitter-tinged words rise from my heart
Up hoarse overworked vocal cords
Clawing their way to my tongue
I stop. I open my mouth. I swallow.
Air gushing, throat clamped in protest
My heart, a disgruntled woodpecker
Hammering away, willing shallow breaths
It cannot win. I open my mouth. I exhale.
The words that were never mine
That threatened to consume me
In dark places within and without.
They die at my lips, casualties of the storm.