Writing a poem can be so difficult at times.
You know what you want to say, you know it's piling up inside you.
And yet you can't.

You just cannot put it--the pain into poetry
because your words which could once come out
swiftly
form some kind of a froth, disabling you
from spitting a verse even.
What's worse
your throat chokes with the hurt,
and your body aches too
only God knows why.

Maybe, I think,
keeping secrets like those of love
and leaving things unsaid for an undetermined time,
--perhaps forever--
is the most dangerous form of torture;
self-inflicted and helplessly nurtured.