I roll the words I say to you around in my mouth,
Making sure I will feel good about them later
But of course, I don’t.
Later I will curse my words, and wish I spent them more wisely.
There is always more to say to you.
I want to tell you how I used to make sandcastles out of plastic cups,
I want to tell you how everyday I wonder if the person next to me is depressed
I want to tell you what book I’m reading.
I want to tell you I’m lesbian.
To tell you though I would have to spend a lot of words