My words are usually full in my mouth. I speak with intention. Each syllable cups the insides of my cheeks, each vowel drips from my tongue. My words are thick honey for your thought process. And when I am pain These words curdle like thick milk of an animal that is not myself. They can be both ugly And life. But with you. Now. My words cower in the back of my throat. I hold back my honey tongue. Reserved. Now like the strawberry preserves My parents keep jarred in the basement. But these words are not saved for a rainy day. They are persevered for chaos. Destruction. The right time to let it all go. But for now I sit passive. I don't spit the words from my throat that would break you twice over. I suck on them. Like lemon candies. Sweet. Sour. They hold a bite. I will not share. Because through all the pain you gifted me, I can still recognize your goodness. And though you did not spread that goodness to me I do not want my satin-poison words to wipe it out, Completely.
I'm busy working on my blog posts. Watch this space!