Sometimes my mouth betrays me.
My tongue, a serpent, coils and weaves,
words splinter like ancient bark from trees.
In my quest to soothe with breath,
I ignite a forest of wounds unsaid.
At dawn, a fragile bird takes flight,
yet I remain the cage, wild with plight,
fluttering softly in a world of gray,
where misunderstandings dance, lead me astray."Who are you?"
my mirror whispers low—
the answer, a tempest, a quiet storm's flow.
Complex, a storm in stillness,
I wear my mask, a shadow's disguise,
louder than the storm where the heart resides.
Between thought and utterance, a chasm grows;
I grasp the splintered bridge of fragile strings,
only to watch it snap and decompose.Yet still, in ruin, a seedling sways,
a wild thing rooted in broken days,
turning its leaves toward the unseen blaze.Beneath broken bridges and shattered skies,
I do not kneel—
I rise, unbroken,
like the storm I've kept inside.🌦
- Unspoken Storm
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YOU ARE READING
the words I kept
Poetry"𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼, 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓲𝓼𝓱..." these are the feelings I carried with me, thoughts I held back, scars I hid, and all the words I kept; my friend and my foe. Warning: some may be triggering, dis...