Words that Failed Me There

They sat with pens tapping

like slow drums, my heart caught

in a snare of hesitation.

A simple question, cracked—

I stumbled over shadows

cast by my own tongue,

a tongue that suddenly tasted sour,

sour with unsaid things.

Their eyes flickered away

as if my silence was a breach,

a chasm I couldn’t bridge,

and I swallowed the words

I wished I’d said,

pressed like bruises under ribs.

I left the table with an echo

of failure folded in my coat,

and the pen kept tapping—

a metronome for regret.