his words
His words make me cold,
Make me hot,
Make me shiver,
Make me bleed with a pain that isn’t mine -
Such anguish.
His words of rage,
Of pain,
Of a bitterness deep and raw and shackled.
Feeling given ink and paper form.
His words
Blood black on the page
Haemorrhaging in neat lines
Or untidy scrawl? I don’t know.
His words
They are his now
He owns them.
If they were yours
Would you let them loose?
Allow them free roam to attack the unguarded, infecting with their bite?
I wasn’t ready for them
I did not see them coming.
Unprepared
For the way they invaded,
Settled in,
Made me their home
And spawned words of their own.
They breed
Like rabbits -
Like cancer.
And where they lie warps
To change your truth,
Your judgement,
A way of seeing yet unseen.
They reach inside,
Haul out the monkey,
Put him behind the wheel
And sit back to enjoy the ride.
© mjc 17 April 2007
