My tongue is heavy with words unspoken,
And they taste like honey;
Rich , oozing layers of gold – my words carry weight.
They taste like a thousand stinging nettles,
That encircle in my mouth , again and again.
I am tired of swishing them around.
Like the salty sea , I taste the tears at the back of my throat,
For if they were ever to come out ; my sorrow would speak volumes.
These unmentioned syllables , collect at the roof of my mouth,
For I would wage wars and create havoc , if I were to release them.
And then , there is the silence.
The void which has settled itself at my lips. Unwilling and uncompromising.
Therefore , I speak not , and let this void state all that is unsaid.
My tongue shall remain heavy with words unspoken.