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.
Scribblemarks 
great poetry
Intense and lovely!