The Weight of the Word

Words gain weight the longer you take to speak them.
Over time, I find, they accumulate at such a rate that I can no longer lift them.
It's the words you don't say that push me away.
If you can't say it- I won't play it.
I've been defeated by dead air,
No words left dangling there.

How much would you say is the weight of a word that's never heard?
How long did you think we'd last when the word never comes to pass?
Unspoken; we are broken,
Beaten by the silence.

How much, again, would you say was the weight of a word?
Heavy enough to break a heart
Strong enough to rip emotions apart
A word, a simple word, wherefore art?