The Weight of Unspoken Words

 Some pains are too heavy to be carried in words. They settle in the chest, wrapping around the ribs like ivy, tightening with every unspoken thought. When I try to speak, the sorrow rises like a tide—only to retreat before it ever reaches the shore.

It stops at my throat, trembling, gasping for air. Then, as if ashamed of its own existence, it turns back, slipping into the cracks of my heart, where it festers in silence.

I wish I had the courage to speak, to let the weight spill from my lips. But some wounds are so deeply woven into my being that they refuse to be unraveled.

And so, in silence, I sit. And in silence, I suffer alone.