"One of the hardest things in
life is having words in your
heart that you can not utter."
~James Earl Jones
There are times when I feel
myself actually chocking on
unuttered words . . .
With whom would I share
them? Would I just sob and
sob if I allowed them to spill
out? Would I ever stop? Or,
simply become a permanent
fountain of the heretofore
unspoken?
Do those who move away,
keep away, still keep their
promise not to share? Does
one live in fear of those
secrets shared rebounding?
Perhaps this is what prayer
is all about. Does some un-
seen being hear your distress?
What if someone overhears
your sobs, your confession,
as it were?
A breakdown of sorts? A
hurriedly invented story?
An unburdening of truth?
There will be a price to pay;
make no mistake!
Wonder what people will
think when finding all those
different parts of my body
once exploded?
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