11-11-2025, 04:31 PM
I did some more editing on this:
My Tongue is a Dam
Heavily, it presses from shoulder to shoulder,
pulling me toward the floor.
Exhausted scapulae choke
my throat,
shut to both breath and nourishment.
My words slammed
back from lifted tongue—
a dam against the flood.
I lied — it hurts
failed…
deserved.
—In the room,
her head shifts, hearing
my silence.
I pay her to listen. I fear
that she hears.
Her notebook poised, black-rimmed glasses pushed into tousled hair.
Two water glasses beside us—
mine half-filled, hers always empty.
I know she’s seen it.
I release a truth to loosen my tongue—
a measured spillway
for my shame
that acid burns.
I swallow.
My shoulders sag but weight still drags,
knotted tendons the net
holding the dam wall intact.
-------
Revision here:
My Tongue is a Dam
It presses heavy from shoulder to shoulder,
pulling me toward the floor.
Exhausted scapulae rise,
enveloping my neck in choking embrace.
The junction where breath meets nourishment
constricts,
pushing my words
back from arid tongue—
lifted, taut,
a dam against the flood.
I lied it hurts
failed…
deserved.
Her head lifts. She heard
the silence.
I pay her to listen. I fear
that she hears.
Her notebook poised, black-rimmed glasses pulled into tousled hair,
she observes me across our two water glasses—
mine half-filled, hers always empty.
I know she’s seen it.
I release a truth that loosens my tongue—
a measured spillway
for my shame
that acid-burns toward my core.
I swallow.
My shoulders sag but drag remains,
knotting my truth into the tendons
that hold me stable.
-----------------------------------------------------
Original
My Tongue is a Dam
It presses heavy from shoulder to shoulder,
pulling toward the floor.
My exhausted scapulae rise,
enveloping my neck in threatening embrace.
That unseen spot where breath meets nourishment
constricts,
pushing my words back
from parched tongue—
clinging to the roof of my mouth,
a dam against the flood of truth.
She must have seen it. Heard
the silence.
I pay her to listen.
Her notebook poised, black-rimmed glasses pulled into her disheveled hair,
she watches me across our two water glasses—
mine half-filled, hers always empty.
I know she’s seen it.
Memory hunts for another truth—
too many truths—
I find one that loosens the tongue and lets breath escape.
That I can say aloud without inviting tears to fall.
My stomach churns at the choice,
releasing an acid tingle into my throat.
I swallow.
My shoulders sag but drag remains,
knotting truth into the tendons
that hold me upright.
My Tongue is a Dam
Heavily, it presses from shoulder to shoulder,
pulling me toward the floor.
Exhausted scapulae choke
my throat,
shut to both breath and nourishment.
My words slammed
back from lifted tongue—
a dam against the flood.
I lied — it hurts
failed…
deserved.
—In the room,
her head shifts, hearing
my silence.
I pay her to listen. I fear
that she hears.
Her notebook poised, black-rimmed glasses pushed into tousled hair.
Two water glasses beside us—
mine half-filled, hers always empty.
I know she’s seen it.
I release a truth to loosen my tongue—
a measured spillway
for my shame
that acid burns.
I swallow.
My shoulders sag but weight still drags,
knotted tendons the net
holding the dam wall intact.
-------
Revision here:
My Tongue is a Dam
It presses heavy from shoulder to shoulder,
pulling me toward the floor.
Exhausted scapulae rise,
enveloping my neck in choking embrace.
The junction where breath meets nourishment
constricts,
pushing my words
back from arid tongue—
lifted, taut,
a dam against the flood.
I lied it hurts
failed…
deserved.
Her head lifts. She heard
the silence.
I pay her to listen. I fear
that she hears.
Her notebook poised, black-rimmed glasses pulled into tousled hair,
she observes me across our two water glasses—
mine half-filled, hers always empty.
I know she’s seen it.
I release a truth that loosens my tongue—
a measured spillway
for my shame
that acid-burns toward my core.
I swallow.
My shoulders sag but drag remains,
knotting my truth into the tendons
that hold me stable.
-----------------------------------------------------
Original
My Tongue is a Dam
It presses heavy from shoulder to shoulder,
pulling toward the floor.
My exhausted scapulae rise,
enveloping my neck in threatening embrace.
That unseen spot where breath meets nourishment
constricts,
pushing my words back
from parched tongue—
clinging to the roof of my mouth,
a dam against the flood of truth.
She must have seen it. Heard
the silence.
I pay her to listen.
Her notebook poised, black-rimmed glasses pulled into her disheveled hair,
she watches me across our two water glasses—
mine half-filled, hers always empty.
I know she’s seen it.
Memory hunts for another truth—
too many truths—
I find one that loosens the tongue and lets breath escape.
That I can say aloud without inviting tears to fall.
My stomach churns at the choice,
releasing an acid tingle into my throat.
I swallow.
My shoulders sag but drag remains,
knotting truth into the tendons
that hold me upright.