There are some days 
When everything feels 
Like an itch you need 
To scratch the hide off
A tickle in the back
Of your throat that 
No amount of water 
Can quench the thirst 
When you have clenched 
Your fists and teeth and jaw 
Until your bones might shatter 
You bite your tongue 
Until you taste blood 
Swallowing down the words
Its better than the guilt 
That would lay in the pit
Of your stomach 
If you spoke them 
In to existence