My mouth is full of words that are not my own
Labeled with my name, but not my own.
Left in a room of hungry cannibals,
Who consume the weak skins
Who consume the broken souls

My words have escaped,
they have left me alone
I and even though
I have my fists,
I still feel my tongue,
against the roof of my mouth
rifling through pages of pointless vocabulary
blank pages, full of empty spaces,
except  for a few:

I'm sorry.
I don't know.
Please, don't hurt me.