Fear To Speak

idk

Survival Skill

Turned to lock-jaw syndrome:

Keep your mouth shut

For fear that your words

Another heart might cut.

 

Lock-jaw syndrome

Turned to Muted Mouth:

Hide away in the corner

Don’t let a whisper out—

Of your own, unspoken words

Shamefully become a mourner.

 

Drown in blank,

White rapids of

Silence:

Prevent probable pain,

Stop imperfect future violence—

Stop it all by

Cutting off your own tongue,

Killing everything you could have sung.

 

Reviews

[Edward Clay]

your poem here feels like a mirror image of itself.

stanza 2 feels awkward at the end. the first four lines are immaculate and fit with each other, syllable for syllable, and even with a rhyme, but the last two lines of it feel unfinished, and left, placed there. it would be more beneficial to the feel of the stanza, if it was to keep the same beat going - or even another beat just for the two lines, but they both feel pretty empty.

savage bird song.