Choking on words

In a rather fantastic way.

My tongue holds them back

As my throat tries to gurgle them out

While my head spins the words around.

Repeatedly,

Incessantly,

But to speak ones fears

Comes at a cost.

 To admit to following an condemned religion

To belong to the assembly of wiccans

Comes with the fear of prejudice.

To admit the fear of failure

The fear of a fruitless life,

Comes with the fear of mockery.

Oh, how bitter these words are

How they drive one to madness

Yet remain unspoken.