I have been struggling

to untie my tongue

for over a decade.

The knot has burrowed

inside my mouth,

the discomfort stifling

when I try to speak;

but when words wade

in deep waters

while I drown,

they become a lifeline.

I need only carry them

to share.

Not in sight, but in

mind’s eye,

a memory of light

that dare not penetrate

the bottom of the ocean.

Should the courage find me,

I will swim to find my words

floating on the surface,

but the cold ocean is my

burrow,

made by my own

cocoon of uncertainty

in the possibility that

life has a purpose.

Convinced of otherwise,

I’ll stop my feet from kicking.

Should fortune find me,

buoyancy will grab me

by the waist until I reach

the surface above.

The knot in my tongue

still there, I cower

at the thought of another

seeing it, but if they will

help me untie it, then

it is worth the struggle.