I wish the words could come out right, all the letters would align and be spoken just in time, so that you could comprehend what I am feeling inside
But I will hold it and collect it with all the words I haven’t said, because what makes it so hard to say is exactly the message that I’m trying to send
If I am confessing, there is too much I have hidden, what will I say this time to mask my true intention?
Because if you discover what really spins through my mind and halts at the lips, will you interpret it?
I will try hard to make sense of the jumble that’s been imprisoned at the tip of my tongue, and I will spit it out in a song of confusion
I don’t expect you to understand, I just want you to listen.
– s. k. darby
Letters To A King 