The Mutist

I don’t want to speak
Anymore. It seems to cause so much pain.
Whatever I say leads her off,
And leads me up
To solitary confinement,
Up my wooden hill of pain,
Up my sorry stack of shame.

So if I don’t open my mouth again,
Never let out another sound, then
Hopefully that blank wall will take me in.
And there’ll be no more upset,
How I beg.