There is more than just oxygen
In every breath I exhale
There is every syllable I never spoke
Every word that danced along my tongue
But always stayed behind my teeth
In a breath, there is sorrow and
Every drop of joy my lungs could fathom
Spinning and twirling
In the back of my throat
Itching to be spoken, released
But unwilling to go
I linger there in a half breath
Just a second too long
The words die and the silence floods
In my oxygen I exhale my truths
My promises and remarks
Ghosts of sentences never worded
And I return to a mere breath
Pain sparking in my eyes.
I have never spoken a word.