Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Mar 2014
Kay P
Yesterday I almost told you how you hurt me

Instead my body rejected
Trembled with the effort of keeping my mouth shut
Sent shivers that pained my every movement
Tremors that travelled across my skin
A hint of no return, a hint of nothing
Until my breath was a tremble
An ache that spread through lung and throat
Out of my mouth and into the air
The only sound allowed

Yesterday I almost told you how it hurt to hear your words

Your self-hate and disgust all consuming
Aimed inward, aimed self bound
Until my heart felt the arrows
Aimed at yourself
And my soul quaked from the knowledge
That what I would die for
You believe worthless

Yesterday I almost told you how it pained me to be near you

Bittersweet
Like sour candy
Held against a tongue that burns each second
Rotting teeth and sweetening breath
Stinging taste buds and leaving them numb
All in the hope of reaching the sweet underneath
And perhaps liking the burn
A bit more than is healthy

Yesterday I almost told you that my love for you was burning

Like a flame left unattended in a forest full of dry leaves
Spreading from old oaks to new sprouts
Consuming all in its path
Reducing everything to ashes
Waiting for a rebirthing metaphor for forest fires
Not talking about the pain of loss to Mother Earth
Only about the growth afterward
Not thinking that all fires must die
That no flame lasts forever

Yesterday I almost spoke of my annoyance toward your disregard

You've changed, you know
You laugh at things you don't think are funny
Simply because you think I would
You make assumptions based on what you believe me to be
Not what you know me as
You make decisions based on what you believe would make me happy
Not on what would make you smile
Not on what would make you laugh
Not on what would make you happy
You've changed to accommodate for my emotions
Not thinking that I've already changed for yours
This won't work out, you know

Yesterday I almost told you that I loved you

Those words pain you now, have you noticed?
You grimace when they leave my mouth
You stop yourself from asking why
And so I've stopped saying it
Because nothing hurts more than the knowledge
That what I say and do makes no difference
That I could scream it and you'd only use it as ammunition
I will not load the gun you aim at yourself
I will not hand you a diamond for you to slit your throat
I will not give you a pillow if you'll only smother yourself
And it hurts that I must do such

Yesterday I almost told you to shut up

Because you're hurting me, you're hurting me
Can't you see that? Do you want to?
My heart lurches with every disrespectful thing you say under your breath
It burns when you call yourself worthless
It shrinks and crumbles under pressure
This coal won't make a diamond
This sand won't make a pearl
I am not a gemstone,
Not iron or steel, but human flesh
And we all know how fragile it is
You know it best, don't you?

Yesterday I almost told you it wasn't the same

But you know how I hate change
And how could I phrase it to prove you aren't the problem?
How could I tell you without you turning it into a weapon?
How could I make it in a way that wouldn't lead to your unhappiness?
Aren't you unhappy enough already?
I can't do it. I can't bring you happiness. I've tried and tried.
And I can't
I can't
Give up on you.
March 10th, 2014
 Feb 2014
Kay P
Flickering
Like lightning
in stereotypical
horror fashion
Like a candle
Who's flame
wavers

Lightning
In the distance
As if the storm
were pausing
pondering
between coming
and moving
on

Wind howls
then quiets
Nature complete
in its utter
indecision
peace
or havoc

Her lips
have stretched wide
Her scream
engulfs the world
though her throat
silences
her voice

Her eyes
skirt
sweeping the ground
the walls
the stomachs and feet
as if afraid
to meet their
opposite

Fine.
Like china
fragile like plates
my words
stitches
weaving in
and around
my lips
unmoving
confining
silent.
 Feb 2014
Kay P
sometimes i open my mouth

you never seem to notice the little jolts
when i decide to say something
stupid
like it doesn’t matter who hears
because no one is listening anyway
and those who do can not interpret
can find no inner meaning
and when the words retract
like measuring tape
it’s not great loss
for humanity

sometimes i open my mouth

and words flow like nectar
honey of arsenic, syrup of mercury
sweet sounding and harsh to taste
poison fermented, sugar-coated,
smooth and sticky and full of sharp edges
broken glass and razor blades
hurt you hurt me hurt everyone
close enough

sometimes i open my mouth

and song bursts forth like butterflies
like birds of prey circling overhead
like shining sunlight and cloaked shadow
like clear crisp air and clearer night skies
like the full moon full of craters
thousands of miles away
sometimes too high and others too low
sometimes too fast, sometimes too slow
and sometimes the song trembles
my voice too powerful
for its composition

sometimes i open my mouth

and silence seeps, black ichor
staining lips and fingers
slipping down throats and dribbling through teeth
and soaking into skin like stains on clothing
creeping and filling the space between
my body and my mind
my friends and my heart
burning and tearing at the *****
until i am drowning on oxygen

sometimes i open my mouth

and scream
my mouth stretched wide as it can go
teeth bared, lips curled,
letting lose a high, free sound
free as a bird and flying until i can feel it
taste the release on my tongue
a sound not of fear but of triumph
ignore me now, pretend you can’t see
howling at the world as a wolf does the moon
i am here, i am here, i am

opening my mouth
February 25th, 2014
 Feb 2014
Kay P
“Do we need to talk?”
hangs from my tongue
on a noose of
agreed
silence.

It tastes like I’ve imagined
your lips, or perhaps
those were someone else’s
once, before
this.

The words hover
coat my mouth
in sugar and mint
carved and colored
swirls.

“I don’t think you two
will ever figure it
out”
which two? us two?
oh. uh.
Truth.

“Are we going to talk about
how we just had…
nevermind.”

Silence is our
Death Sentence.
February 16th,  2014

— The End —