Sometimes I want to
speak. But it's like the words are
caught
on something, feels like
fear. Tastes like warmth
filling up, squeezing
out space. My breath catches.
Entangled in nerves, veins,
arteries and rigid bone. A mesh.
Fear's web. Words
try to come out
but
nothing.
not
even
a
gasp
for
air.
Jul 21, 2012
Jul 21, 2012 at 2:41 AM UTC
Sometimes I want to
speak. But it's like the words are
caught
on something, feels like
fear. Tastes like warmth
filling up, squeezing
out space. My breath catches.
Entangled in nerves, veins,
arteries and rigid bone. A mesh.
Fear's web. Words
try to come out
but
nothing.
not
even
a
gasp
for
air.
Written 13/3/2012