The Invisible Chains of Every Word

Each word I speak, a thread I weave,

A soft-spun chain I can't perceive.

It curls around the heart, the soul,

Binding tight, yet beyond control.

The gentle whispers of the mind,

The things we say, the things we hide,

They flutter like a feather’s flight,

But leave behind a weight at night.

A promise made, a lie betrayed,

The kindness given, the trust delayed—

In every sentence, every plea,

There’s a tether, unseen, holding me.

I’ve worn these chains for years, I know,

Yet still they seem to softly grow—

Not in iron, but in thought,

In every wound that I forgot.

Words like knives, with edges sweet,

Slice through the silence, make me complete—

Then wound with truth I never planned,

Leaving scars that will never stand.

I wonder, if I dared to speak,

Could I undo what’s made me weak?

Could silence break these bonds, unwind

The weight of words I left behind?

But still I speak, for fear I’ll fall

Into the void of silence’s call.

For in the stillness, too, I fear

The weight of all I never hear.

So here I stand, in chains of sound,

Bound by every word I’ve found—

Invisible links that never break,

The quiet cost of what I make.

If only I could learn to see

The chains I weave and set me free—

But until then, I’ll speak and sigh,

Carrying the weight of each goodbye.