Pantomime

Once again I ask myself to suffer, sifting through so many words, there's so much I want to say. Perhaps afraid to stand before you, naked to your judgment, exposing every nerve and every weakness in a pantomime. I wouldn't know what to do with my strength anyway. The deafening silence is broken by the annoying sound of pain as it goes away. You are the voice, and without your words, my page lies empty. I've been struggling with a phrase or two, three nights passed without a gift. No secrets falling from my lips. No lover's knot of rhyme or reason. Too many words to choose from, yet never enough to say how I feel. Tomorrow suffering. Enough of a battle today. Think I'll rest my head awhile and dream of pantomime, surrendering words to you.