The Hardest Word

No.

 

To say it to you

To deny your request

Is like cutting my own flesh.

 

My gut swoops and hangs

My sweat stinks my fear

My head swings in an arc

And my voice will not sound.

 

To be silent now

To deny my own wish

Is like fastening my own chains.

 

My throat closes fast

My ears hum and buzz

My breath hangs in my mouth

And my voice will not sound.

 

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Copyright © 2014 Elizabeth Cutts

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