Nuances

Standard


 

It rolls off my tongue
Hitting the back of my teeth
Spitting saliva
Trying to form the words

But no sound…

No sound
Comes forth
It builds and swells
In my throat

I negotiate
I suplicate
I make promises I can’t possibly keep
Just to here these words,

Just to hear my words
Hang in the thin air
Where the veils of light
Could drench each syllable.

It gets harder
The words, they begin to suffocate
Releasing toxins
That subdue the spirit they’ve carried.

The anticipation is staggering
While my pride is collapsing
And my thoughts are racing
Attempting to salvage this confrontation.

My teeth collect the bits
And pieces, the shrapnel
Of the hard edges and cut syllables
Of all these words

While my lips beg,
My jaw begins to release
The captives, so they flee;
Tickling the thick red skin that curls under to meet my chin.

I have become
A slave to these sounds
That represent the words,
To which represent the thoughts
That represent the insecurities

Exhausted;
All I can envision
are the other thoughts
That could have fallen on the page.

But the timing is off
The rhythm mismatched
Thoughts in disarray
And an ever mounting pressure, escalates

The words begin to roll onto my tongue
But they dance
Bringing themselves
Ever so slightly; closer.

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