My tongue rests heavy in my mouth,
Like a stone at the bottom of a river.
My voice is drier than a raisin,
After hours evaporating in the hot California sun.
My jaw is padlocked,
The key an algebraic code only comprehended by the smartest mathematicians.
My brain is scrambled, overcooked even,
Like a batch of eggs neglected on the stove, meant for Saturday morning breakfast.
But my heart,
My heart is soaked with words I’ll never say.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.