Tacenda

The Stone In My Throat

The stone tightly lodged in my throat is asking you if you still love me

It is warm and smooth and heavy and threatening

The dependable pressure it places at the base of my neck might've felt comforting if it weren't so inescapable

There is no happy ending for the stone and I

No way to be rid of it without suffering damage myself

No words you could say that could crush it into swallowable sand

                                                                                            . . . 

On one hand, your words might stab straight into my gut

Nothing is better at washing away rejection than hot, acidic bile

The stone would be no match for the chills chasing each other down my spine and out into my limbs

Gut wrenching betrayal twisting inside my stomach would demand that its presence be announced in the most embarrassing fashion

Pressure would build beneath my collar bones as the stone and the nausea rushing up my body fight for dominance

The stone would push down, not willing to lose ground

And the heartbreak climbing up my torso would swirl fast enough to rip open my chest

Desperate for relief from the unbearable rivalry, I would swear to welcome either winner

Unable to endure the pressure any longer, the surface of my body would crack into gaping chasms and vomit burning like lava would erupt from my lips

The impact would knock me to my knees and the wretched stone would fly from my mouth

I would crumple at your feet

A pitiful puddle of heartbreak and puke

                                                                                                  . . .

On the other hand, your answer might satisfy the stone

Catch it off guard and let it slip suddenly from its perch

For a moment I would be thrilled

Without the stone I would breathe wholly and openly and joyously for the first time in too long

Gasping for fresh air so enthusiastically I wouldn't notice the stone's decent

Tumbling down the inside of my body, the stone would finally plunge into the base of my stomach

I wouldn't notice at first

The stone's weight dragging me down

I would drown happily

Letting the darkness lap over my face as its wet, inky blackness mixed with my happy tears

The stone would anchor me into your warm, dark eyes and I would drown in the place I had loved the most