Words tumble,
Like a box of nails
Spilling erratically
Onto the floor, stabbing
In all directions;
When they were made
To hold things together.


Just time to react,
But I’ve hit
My **** thumb again,
Instead of a nail on the head;
Trying to seal another
Pandora’s Box full of evil
Secrets and recriminations.


Blindly on, through the redness
Of anger, hit and run;
Blow parry, blow
So many things remembered
Like a diary of our lives,
Every occasion
I forgot, didn’t notice, ******* up.


Then silence; but not calm
A creeping space between us;
We will split
Like a piece of timber
Once useful, now driftwood
Two halves needing each other
Needing words to hold us together.