Confessions never seem to come
They hover bluntly in the throat
I think they're afraid
Of the rot
That grows in words unspoken
A quiet mold
Blooming behind the teeth
Between the maybe
And the nevermind
You think silence is mercy
But it has claws
And they dig in when the lights go out
I've waited for softness
That doesn't arrive
For a sentence with a full stop
Not just breathless withdrawal
The resentment simmers and curdles
Every memory turns to vinegar
In the gut
The sharpness turns inward
Every word a shiv I swallow
Like a storm in the mouth
Lethal even without the screaming
My pain delivered in whispers
Through a voice trained to stay quiet Until it splinters
And when it finally breaks
It won't sound like rage
It will sound like a crack in the drywall
Like something old slowly giving way
Obedience trained to carry grief
It seeps into the environment
Taught to flinch
To fold
To stay
-Sorelle