POEM: Breaking Point.

The breaking point would be, that look from you,
That cuts deep, to bare my insecurity,
As silence screams with your critique.
Never voiced out loud, to then allow
The challenge I feel swelling in my breast.
The bickering voices, of heart and mind
Swell and swirl and turbinate.
A key that turns tightens my internal spring
Into a strangle hold, fashioned to suppress,
In the face of censure that you won't express.

My determination to not be the one
To submit, face defeat and vocalise
The pent-up frustration, allow angers vent.
Instead on rattling lid, down hard I press,
Not to be the one to crack, make complaint.
Ignore the bitter acid flood, hot tide,
Of the emotional swell I hold in check.
Rather swallow hard, and bury deep
That rock hard lump lodged inside my chest,
My ultimate goal, to appear unimpressed.

Dress the pain, in a thickened skin,
All is fine, no care, needing to pretend.
No hot lava burning in bloodshot eyes,
No crumbling cork in dried out throat.
Mind rushing turmoil, escape the noise
Of bitter voices, of rehashed ground.
I need progression, but have no choice.
Must first examine the corpse exhumed,
Pronounce death of accusations cast,
Move through denial, to find relief at last.