Can’t Be Spoken
By Emilee Friend
“I love you”
The words get heaver as I age;
A weight in my chest.
They stick to my tongue.
Their taste foreign,
meant for everyone else.
But I’m a hoarder.
I can’t
I won’t
Part with them so willingly.
“I love you”
My aversion isn’t noble.
I’m not saving this for ‘the one’
This is fear
Of knowing what love is
Of accepting its existence
Of realizing I might not fit the mold
I know I can’t,
I won’t
Give them this.
“I love you”
I can write the words
In sloppy penmanship.
They stare ate me from on the page,
But my mouth can’t form the sounds,
Haven’t been able to in years.
I hate this.
