Cool as a frazzled cucumber
I take my words and clench them in my jaw and my fists
I fight every urge to throw them in your face or
deliver them in a well-timed slide smoothly down the table
because I know they would destroy you
or at least buy your silence
because your talk is so cheap

But I hold them.

I return them to my mind and break them in to pieces.
I remold them as light and hope and love.
Because hate is a weakness, an ugly waste
empty sounds leaving bitter taste
so I could through words in your face
but that won't be the case
because hate is just too easy.