Say It

Words burn in my veins.
I cannot say them out loud.
Afraid of the sound,
the portent,
the reality.
A swell starts in my solar plexus.
In my throat the words expand,
press at my voice box,
bring tears to my eyes.
In my head, “say it”
but I cant. And then the moment passes.
And no one knows
I had something to say
or why I am standing so still.