odd how our throats turn up & down.
& that heart bleeds words,
& words give heart,
but when lips shut & blood words go unsaid,
everything shuts.
how do i learn to let those words scab?
they're drying in my throat &
cracking my soul.
does it get easier to swallow words
once their dead & dust?
does it get easier to stuff heart
& deaf my sound track?
seems its the easy road. or the right one, at least.
why does it feel so coarse?
i'm choking on distaste for this iron-riched breath.
it's not the kind that can be brushed,
not without ripping scab & making those words ring.
silence is tearing my sleep.
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