Hidden

The words are hidden beneath my tongue

Warm and comfortable

Afraid yet secure

I cough

I spit

I yell

Only repetitions of the same words are released

While new, more accurate, more mature words are squirreled away

I know this because my tongue feels heavy with thought

Yet, in the mirror I see nothing but the same pink, average tongue

I try to swallow these words in hope the stomach acid will shock them

Force them to jump out of my mouth

So I know I have discovered new meaning

Is not life about the constant discovery of meaning?

Why then do these words lay dormant?