The Insides of My Mouth

i nurse fear at the back of

my throat. it hums softly

sometimes, almost as if to tease me.

to remind me of its existence,

to remind me why it’s there and

who put it there.

i want to break the fast of

silence that has been holding onto

my tongue. i want to run to you

over the sound of my pride and tell you

of my un-doing, my un-ravelling.

i want to write to you sometimes and

tell you how my fear is the shape of

your absence and it’s shadow is the

distance between us. i want to tell

you that i am tired of loving people

that never come back.

but even in the moments

when the insides of my mouth unravel

and become soft,

the fear at the back of my throat takes shape

and reminds me that i do not own you.

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