Bitten Tongue

Frigid;

Fingertips of ice scanned my weary forearm

As I rubbed circles in habitual rhythms.

Gnawed inner cheek

And bitten tongue were common flavors

Of anxious releases.

Kinesthetic motions

Provided no freedom from the

Spiraling

As I lay in bed,

Telephone by gnawed cheek,

Words hardly sprinkling off that

Bitten tongue

As I held it once more.

Cowardice reverberated

Within my skull. Memories of

How they pricked me with their

Sentences,

How they bent my spine and

Minced my spirit.

Suddenly my tongue

Was no longer caged;

I whispered my grievances and

Listed my sorrows and

Spoke one final

Goodbye.

Freed from 

Manipulation

I then slept whilst my oral wounds

Healed over

And the anxious scars

Faded, too.