Throat Dweller
Poem: Its voice is velvet, sweet and low, a cradle song I shouldn’t know. It sings, “You’re fine,” while chaos grows, deceiving me from truths I know.
Throat Dweller
Denial lives curled in my throat,
a forked tongue whisper I still quote.
Its lullabies in minor key,
soften thoughts that should rattle me.
Its voice is velvet, sweet and low,
a cradle song I shouldn’t know.
It sings, “You’re fine,” while chaos grows,
deceiving me from truths I know.
It sings me calm with careful lies,
it sings of peace while reason dies,
and lights wildfires behind my eyes,
a blaze the truth can’t cauterize.
It feasts on facts I choke back down,
instincts abandoned there to drown.
It drinks my fear like vintage wine,
then dines on every warning sign.
By day, it sleeps, its hunger slight
but oh, it thrives in quiet night,
when silence stretches taut with weight,
and I’m too tired to contemplate.
It breeds in rooms where I pretend,
in emails I have yet to send.
It dances when I smile and nod,
pretending I’m not breaking, flawed.
A parasite dressed up as balm,
it offers comfort, soft and calm.
But all the while, it stokes the blaze
that smolders just behind my gaze.
So still it curls inside my throat,
the forked tongue whisper that I quote.
And should it ever slip away,
I fear the truths it kept at bay.
By: Heather Patton / Verdant Butterfly
❤ Leave Some Love Like and Comment.
© 2026 Heather Patton · The Verdant Butterfly
Shared free with love for this community.
Please credit the author when quoting or sharing, and never republish without permission.
Comments (4)
