There are days when
the unvoiced pain hits me.
It takes me by surprise,
all the tears I haven't cried.  
How can there be more?
That **** is buried so deep,
unacknowledged,
untended,
unfelt.  
There's a deep dark well of pain in me.
It's waters are silent, vast, unreflecting,
at the bottom of a cold, lightless cavern.
It calls to me,
wants to swallow me whole.
It feeds off my life, my light.
It has ahold of my soul.
The only way to shrink its power
is to drain it,
to cry out the pain,
to speak the pain to life,
so it's no longer caged inside of me,
to name it,
to feel it.
Only then will the dark waters recede
and the threat of drowning be lessened.