The Locked Door of Words

A stillness settles around them, a self-imposed hush. Words unspool in the mind, arguments formed, stories waiting, but the lips remain a sealed seam. What landscapes lie behind that quiet facade? A battlefield of unspoken hurts? A garden of carefully guarded dreams? Or simply a vast, echoing emptiness where words have withered and died? The eyes might flicker, a brief spark betraying the tension held within, the jawline tight, a silent barricade. Is it a shield against a world too loud, too quick to judge, too eager to consume? Or a prison built of fear, each unuttered syllable a locked door? We strain to hear the whispers trapped inside, to decipher the silence, but the tight-lipped hold their secrets close, a universe contained in a breath held captive. ©bfa042125