Paper, Untouched

What would it look like
If I wrote a letter, with all the words I can’t say 
They come to me in the dark now
Trying their best to describe all the ways
That they catch in my throat, tangle themselves with my tongue 
As I try to thrust them out 
spit them out
Chest heaving with the weight of them
Collapsing with syllables 
Sounds lost, choked and cut off
Burning as they come up, turned to ashes
A larynx severed, as if with sharp scissors 
And even if I could manage,
Produce the scribbled lines
I’d use those same blades
To slice though the pages 
Write them down in pencil
Just to erase them away 
Undo the work of hands that the soul won't allow
Leave the paper untouched
Clean, stark white 
Reduced to silent cries for help
In a language no one else speaks
Walk away
Another day
Resigned


They say things left unsaid will eat you inside 
To let them out, let them go, set them free
But they forgot that they're caged there
And I lost the key