No Words for This
There are words for this,
Hanging from the bottom of the lower lip,
Hiding in the pit of the stomach, sour,
Eating away at the tender lining.
There is a scream worthy of this,
Rattling away in the brain matter,
Bouncing from temple to temple,
Not to be released until the end.
Of all thought.
Of all words.
© 2016 Marié Patricia Nicolina Murray