The Verse Of The Retiring Introvert Poem by Samantha Stough

Ever so lately, my jaw has felt like concrete
Compulsively clenching itself
I suppose my prose can no longer can compete

Haven’t suffered such violent silence before
My new found botulism
Trying to tell me my wording is poor

Since the day I ran out of luck
My subconscious prefers
That I’d kindly shut the hell up

A painful ache paired with each thought I pursue
Lost control of everything else
Why not my body too?

Next time I open my mouth
Hopefully I’ll have learned
How to make the verse come out