Words In The Mouth

There are words in my mouth,

Cluttered between the crevices in my teeth

Like cavities.

Only I got them not from eating sweet nothings

But vile, toxic rage that had nowhere else to go.

.

My tongue is fascinated with their texture.

Rough around the edges,

Sharp enough to cut tender flesh,

They burn against my tongue and brand me

With sentiments I'll never shake.

.

The words become a part of a narrative of cotton

Clogging up the back of my throat

And puffing from my nose.

Little clouds of lies,

The smoke exposing a terrible fire that's eaten me whole.

.