feel

knotted tongue 
thoughts 
feelings 
buried in the bowels 
of introversion 
where flowers grow 
where the grass 
is thick and green 
where rivers flow
calm and serene 
with a dash of 
awkwardness 
when social interaction 
is essential to form bonds 

but those bonds 
never get formed 
because they 
tie my tongue 
the air in my lungs 
whistle the melodies 
of all the things 
i wish i’d have said 
but didn’t 
the things i desperately 
wanted to say 
but couldn’t 

i know silence 
has it’s own dialogue 
of whispers 
i wonder, 
in those moments 
what mine say… 

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