The Taste of Silence

A sting that catches just so, a slip,

like thorns catching words on the edge of my lip.

I want to scream, but the air weighs like stone,

a message, a longing, all left alone.

The bitter taste lingers, a pact made in hush,

each syllable swallowed, an unspoken rush.

In meetings and moments, the silence expands,

each thought left unvoiced, like grains in my hands.