Dirty Words

Your words splinter
When you force them out
They are rotten and cold
And they drag away the breath, but
You cast them out.
You are comfortable
They will not come back to you,
Not really.
You will say,
“I didn’t mean it like that”
And then you will say,
“Oh get over it”
And I won’t, but you will think I will.

I will pocket it
Until I can place it
With the rest;
Beneath those are my
And every mistake
I have ever made.
A lower still
You are.
I was young
and ignorant
And now I am old
and tired
And I place my disappointments
In a box.

They will overflow soon.
You will be angry
And you will say that this is small
Just like all of the other things
That fill the box.
They are small
But they are heavy
And the smell of your words
Lingers on them like death.
They last longer than your memory
Can hold
And they cling to everything
And they distort everything
And I can only see them
I can only feel them
We are the sum of
Dirty, rotten words.
Here are my last for you:
I will say, “get over it.”
But I know that you will not.

4 thoughts on “Dirty Words

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