Clamping

What hurt, most, was the clamping down of teeth.
The bringing of silence.

She would be prescribed painkillers
and a mouth splint that would make her feel like a horse.
She would grow inward on herself
until roots and branches twisted into one.
She would lie on her bed as
it became stone beneath her spine.
She would forget words, phrases,
how to move her lips and tongue at will.
She would yearn to talk
about her feelings with friends drawn away to the noise.

She would hope to never speak again.

That would all come later.
At first, the closing of the mouth
as horror solidified within her throat.