The Unsaid - 7/24/14

Do the words we leave unspoken
Scream in our minds?
Do they
Whisper in our hearts?
Or do they
Echo in our souls?
Where do they go?
Perhaps they fall in fields filled with memories?
Maybe that is a fortuitous fate.
When the past is recalled,
They show up, not a moment too late,
Accompanying images with intimate words
That once held appropriate weight,
But are now so heavy that they feel slurred.
Do we shackle these thoughts?
Trap them in our dark places
Because of the light that they once brought?
Hold them down...
Do anything to slow them down...
Because they remind us of what we once sought?
Ah, we drown them, right?
Night after night,
Dark liquor or white.
Intoxicate these ideas so they never seem stable enough to trust?
Or do we submerge them just to save them,
Playing hero to see how much they mean to us?
If we knew where they went,
What would it really mean?
Remnants of sentiments...
Would it be like visiting a crime scene?
Or maybe more like a morgue?
A collection of once warm and meaningful statements,
Now cold, lifeless, and stored...
Do the words we leave unspoken
Scream in our minds?
Do they
Whisper in our hearts?
Or do they
Echo in our souls?
Where do they go?
...do we really want to know?
Or are we asking just for show?

-A. Lewis