What happens to the words we don’t say?
Where do they go?
What becomes of them?
Words formed with force and feeling,
To wound, to hurt, to rebuke,
Words, filled with meaning,
To pacify, to comfort, to apologise
Words, bursting, searing, rising from the deep
To heal, to love, to protect,
What happens to these words we don’t say
When just short of being spoken,
We shut them down and force them back
Back to the place where thoughts lie waiting
New words are formed,
Not as volatile, brutal, angry
Not as loving, healing, protective
Not as placating, consoling, apologetic
These are the words we use
These are the words we say
These are the words that are safe
What happens to the words we don’t say
Do they lie there, in a forgotten corner of our hearts, our minds,
Cast away, unfulfilled, wasted.
Still bursting with meaning, still searing, still forceful,
But useless nonetheless,
Abandoned, all dressed up with nowhere to go
What happens to the words we don’t say?
Where do they go?
What becomes of them?
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