I understand nothing
But ask nothing.
With so many words behind these lips,
I never allow them to part.
I remain silent.
But for how long can I keep this up?
And for how long can you?
Or is this just an imagination crossed with paranoia
At its best?
...or, rather, worst?
Tell me, provoke me, show me, push me, press me, look at me.
Speak.
Because words get lost in my throat,
And I don't find them until it's too late.