I bite rabbit holes
into my tongue
before my confrontations
have the opportunity
to race past my teeth
and infuriate your
superiority complex
upon impact.

These confrontations
stick to the roof of my mouth
like burned marshmallows
dandruffed in black shavings
that taste of regret and fire

(I swallow them anyway).

Turns out
I was so preoccupied with
these suppressed campfire stories
that I did not notice
when my own lips caught flame,
kindled by all the words.
I've never had the courage to speak aloud.

Of course,
things are different now.