Mute

I'm mute, unable to open my lips and let the flood roar.

It doesn't stop the waves crashing against my teeth,

Doesn't eliminate the tide pulling my wishes to the tip

Of what used to be a silver tongue now coated in blood.

.

The waters of my soul are impossibly cold,

Frozen in a way that should have rendered them still.

How then can they tear through me with such force?

How can they slosh inside my heart and freeze my blood?

.

I stand still in the midst of a torrent of violent, knife-sharp words

But my mouth refuses to open and let these words spill.

I am mute down to my bones, mute to the core of my being.

These crashing waves inside my chest exist to terrify.

.

They frighten the sanity out of me and I am back

Huddled inside a kindergarten with cold stone walls

Wondering why I cannot answer the question asked of me.

The waves were too cold; my mouth had frozen shut.

.

Sometimes though the waves turn hot, molten, angry.

They burned the back of my lips until they bleed

And press white-hot hands against the inside of my ribs

With the insistent urging to speak, speak, speak!

.

I will take the frostbite and the burns over the pain of speaking.

I'll let the words chew holes through my soul

Before I can gather enough courage up in my little basket

To throw up a flag and speak.

.