Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Silenced by Joan McNerney

What is never spoken of, pushed down,
becomes mold crawling over hearts.
Strangling our voices, it scuttles through
corridors, tunneling, warping each day.
My body, this swollen thing carried by
legs too thin and crippled to uphold it.
Pushed down, tightly clamped in now,
full of pain, gasping for each breath.

1 comment:

Elizabeth said...

I like this poem! I would have liked it a bit expanded I think.