Do I have to say that I know? Then let me say instead...
there it is... so small in my stomach: a black and boiling circle the size of a quarter, that runs so deep it brushes the back of the throat of my soul. And it sits there, a grey stone, just waiting for nights like this to melt itself down and steal my words and strength. Thick liquid writhing, the vapors searing pain to every inch they touch... their center this crippling, black, abscess core.
I still remember the night it was created, and the blind tears. Nicole, you take what I cannot speak simply and animate it into verse I don't have the voice for...
*half smiles* This is the anthem for the destructive mutes, the ones who understand that our “silent treatment” is harder on the one who cannot speak.
Just like jello... hit that spot in me I just never got out. Thanks for this one. *superherohugs*