I know it's easier not to talk,

But I do it anyway.

Maybe it's because I need the practice
Or I'm convinced this time will be different.

The thought is there.
The words are there.
As always.

       let us out
Demand the words,
As always,
But they've burned me before.
  
     trust us
They implore.

I should refuse.
I want to refuse.
But I know,
And the words know,
There is nothing I love more
Than a listening

Interested

Audience.

So I have to test this one.

One more chance
I warn them.
And the words in my head line up.

They follow the path.
From my brain,
Across my tounge,
To the edge of my open mouth.

But they weren't quite single-file,

And out trips a syllable.

The wrong one.

They panic for a moment-
Until the right one is found,
And the flow of words is back on track.

But it's already too late.

Fooled again-
I scorn the words I tried speak.
They tied my tounge,
And ruined-
As always-
A perfectly brilliant thought.

It's all in the delivery.

I threaten-
As always-
To never speak again.

But I know,
And the words know,
That the half a heart with which I made the threat,
Is the same half,
That loves,

A listening,

Interested,

Audience.