“NAUSEA”

I haven’t told anyone.

I can’t bring myself to.

Sometimes I think 

I’m gonna explode 

and spit out the truth

I’m being restlessly 

suffocated by.

I fear one day the words 

will come out like vomit 

so violently and ruthlessly

that I will fall to the floor

unable to ever get up.

I feel nauseous after every meal

but maybe it’s not the food 

I can’t digest.

Maybe it’s the rotting 

clump of words that 

I refuse to let out.

And as I gently struggle to exist 

the words become a repulsing 

knot in my stomach

fighting like a cruel beast. 

I shakingly tame it 

holding its metal chains 

as my hands profusely bleed

and my vision gets blurry,

because I don’t think I could bear 

to see it run out my mouth 

and into the ears of anyone

that has not known us

the way we have.

M.L. July ‘22