Words are melting on my tongue
like ice; water is running down my throat.
A cold sensation that makes me gasp
Words so heavy, they drag me down.
They are hard to swallow, but even harder
to speak; all they do is leave a metallic taste
in my mouth that carries the reminder
of blood. A silent warning, a sense of
distress in every beat of my heart.
Words never uttered are the
loudest, you know. They scream inside
the mind, they ache behind closed eyes.
They are the pain you try to soothe
with fingers pressed to temples.
We try to silence the voices in our
heads, try to suffocate them –
and in the process we forget that
we need to breathe, too.
By Hannah T. Rosenthal
Hannah T. Rosenthal is a nineteen-year-old aspiring writer currently living in Germany. She is interested in literature of all kinds and language, as well as its development and linguistics per se. Aside from that mythology and philosophy are counted among her greatest interests. More of her writing can be found at ourfragilestars.tumblr.com.