Words stolen from my throat before my mouth gives them shape and purpose
Volumptous thoughts sucked dry of all of their sweet volume like withered grapes on the vine
Black storm clouds ripple my calm waters, sending me reeling with frustration
Being asked to be less
Say less
Need less
Take less space
I am twisted, muted, and bound inside myself
Trying to survive loving you
With your barbed wire, landmines, arrows, blades, and poisons
Maybe one day you’ll stop listening to your own voice long enough to hear mine
Or all you will hear is the silence that signifies my absence
-gws
Words Wishes and Wisdom 