Sealed up thoughts on an open mouth are quite the sight to behold
And for a person who has stayed quiet for quite a while now,
it's the familiarity that strikes it as home.
Parted lips become poetry when there are no words left to speak.
And warm breaths that escape them like unanswered prayers become fogs.
They cover me up and dance around me to a tune you never could hear
Because you've never sealed up your thoughts, never tied them down,
with your tongue and your throat.
You are free and fearless,
Bold and brave with your words.
They cut, they kill, and they thrive to become immortal
So they turn into scars on one's mind, ensuring their legacy's longevity.
Your words sweep over my horizon like a hurricane;
With wind so sharp, it takes away the air from my lungs.
They discover and destroy.
They build and break;
The heart and the mind both.
You wield a sword with your tongue while it's me who is chained to the ground with my ever parted lips.
Words don’t escape them.
Fogs don’t let them breathe.
My poems are never heard.
— 31st March 2020. 1.30 am.
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