Sharing necks

If you opened up my neck you would find unspoken sorrow, bottled for years on end.

The pain would  spill out, dripping, sticky, and wet on your hardened heart, softening it up, gulping down your barrier and chewing, carefully, thoughtfully on your unsuspecting empathy.

You are a kind person underneath that shell covering your soul

and this makes you weak to the monster in my throat.

If you opened up my neck you would find rejected tears and piercing breaths. 

The tears would soak you to the core and seep into your bones.

You would feel no chill, but the fluid resting on your bones would be unsettling.

You would feel pain.

My weapons would stab you.  My breath.  My forgotten breath.

They would whisper in your ear and tighten your lungs.

Constricting your flow of angry blood and penetrate your thoughts.

They would tell you to feel.

Feel for this girl.

Feel for yourself.

just feel.

But you would reject it at once; fore this thing that speaks is evil.



.....




Isn't it?


.......

If you opened up my throat you would hold onto your walls surrounding your heart as tightly as you could.

Because the monster would slowly be finding you. The true you.

It knows you have feelings and it has seen your heart.

You would barricade the remaining vulnerable things.

But it would be too late.

The Monster would shred the last bit of your shield.

Then you would look down and see all the things you've hidden from the world.

Without the protection, without the walls, without any coverings at all, alone and frail.

And finally you would look down and see who you were, who you are, and who should've been all along.




If you opened up my neck you just might find yourself again.