Vignette #1

A wad of words, blocked in my throat

I can’t get them out. I want to say something,

But I don’t know what.

Not yet able to form the words,

an unfamiliar tongue, atrophied muscle.

A tightness gripping my neck –

Close to suffocation.

Or that queasy unease just before you vomit.

Or more like

An unexpressed sadness.

There’s a weight to that. Perhaps

that’s what’s pressing down on my gullet.

Pause for breath and thought —

Spit it out.