Words are my disguise, subtle lies,
Easy to hide behind.
Things that can be minced and uttered,
Tied up and uncluttered.
Loose ends in neat little bows,
No hint of deception in their neat little rows.
There is no questions left to face,
When the period is placed.
Just a mountain of words to explore,
Of raw feelings left ungored,
And little things that become my reality;
Regardless of their grounds in fantasy.
There is violence in the way,
The words cram down my throat, begging to say,
All the things I try to swallow.
Words bubble up and I feel hollow.
But isn’t this what we want?
To let go and be forgot.
Let their hands fall from our shoulders,
To become someone bolder?
I will not take words that go down easily,
I will not face words said believably.
Tell me your truth, convince me you’re right.
Don’t go down without a fight.
Build towers with your tongue,
Trip over words that cannot be sung,
Because they’re too dirty, too rude, too violent.
Never be content,
To swallow the words,