To Speak In Tongues

Sometimes, it feels as if my tongue has been removed 

I can feel its remnants, hinting, mocking

But is it even mine, how could it be?

A family tongue is passed, bestowed

I lack the words to speak – 

Make mistakes that reveal me, 

That I don’t belong.

That I am without tongue 

Or only half a tongue 

Half, almost worse than without 

Those without are strangers

But half,

Half means something, quite different 

Something, more lonely 

The heart cries,

For a home it never knew

Sentences and phrases,

That only others can produce,

Break the heart 

The grief is wordless 

No, the words exist

They’re just not mine.

a child born of two tongues

One is easier, comfortable, safe

It doesn’t require questions or answers 

Yet grief cannot be banished,

There is no way to exile parts of the soul

Without pain 

As removing a finger ends with blood