Emetophobia

All the feelings I have choked down 
have finally ignited in my stomach. 
All the words I cannot say 
(as they are not “acceptable”) 
have given over to acidity, 
and begun to boil in my belly. 
Now this bile, composed 
of hatred and hurt, is crawling 
its way up my esophagus 
and out of my body.

 

I’m terrified of what 
I will see in the remnants;
these things I am ashamed to own.
Much stronger than stomach acid,
but weaker than my constitution,
they stay down where I have locked them
in the pit of my stomach, but
I fear how it sloshes as of late.
Overflowing with no way out 
but up.
And my throat keeps constricting-
soon my airways will close up 
in an attempt to seal
these putrid thoughts, words, emotions
inward; never to escape, only to find release
once I have found mine.  

This poem is about: 
Me

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