I wish my words had stayed in my mouth.

But they sat there, smoldering, burning my throat.

So I spoke them.

And instead of relieving the hurt, I smote you with my tongue.

A cacophony of notes,

They fell,

Limp and dull at your feet.

The fire in my throat has been lulled to sleep

By a drowning sensation

– an ocean –

In the deep of my stomach.

Too much, too heavy, too complex

For me to carry.

You stand there,

With the same water in your eyes that fills my belly.

“I’m sorry.”

Such inadequate words, for such a sensation.

They fall flaccidly, lifelessly,

Again at you feet.

“It’s alright.” You say.

But it isn’t.

We both feel.

You walk away,

Your gait full of make believe carelessness.

And I stand here drowning.

I wish the words had stayed in my mouth,

Burning me and not you.

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