Unspoken

I write when I can’t speak. The words get embedded in me deep down between my soft tissue. They’re so bottled up within me that they have no escape. Words so tightly wind around my insides that my body is rigid. My organs are assaulted and I feel I’m turning to cement. My throat is closing up. I can’t speak so all the letters are trapped behind my tonsils. Fighting against the roof of my mouth, stabbing my gums. Knocking around the backs of my teeth creating new sentences mixed in with saliva.

I don’t know how I’m breathing or is this even breathing? Taking breaths usually brings some kind of barely noticed relief. I’m inhaling but with no release. Tears are burning behind my eyes but I refuse to let them exist outside of my body. I block them in, my eyes are a dam. My tears are every fucking minuscule and gigantic thing transformed into water, sodium, fatty acid and proteins. My lifes pain reduced to elements on the periodic table.

If only I could speak but being the strong one doesn’t allow for that. I’ve been swallowing my words for as long as I can remember. I feel them decaying me from the inside out. I need to stop this but I don’t know how. So I eat my words and they kill me slowly. Writing them down delays my impending demise but I know doing this acts as putting band aids on blackened tumors growing deep inside.

Sometimes I daydream what would happen if I didn’t write the words down. I imagine my five foot body exploding words like I stepped on a landmine. Blood stained words like PAIN, HURT, INSECURITY and SHAME running down the walls. Pieces of my organs are still attached to the words LOVE, LUST, FEAR and UGLY. CRUELTY, PURPOSE, BETRAYAL and WORLD splattered with brain matter to the tv and drips down the coffee table. Death by words, that’s not how I want to go out. At this rate just put the word UNSPOKEN on my headstone.