Marred with words I never said; Coursing with the notion I'll never say them. Words like thunder; That echo in the heavens as they rattle your atmosphere and break the very bones that keep you structured. Words that are so soft and lustful; They are a mere gossamer touch in you ear; Lulling you to idleness. They stain. Ink bubbles out of my lips and dribbles onto my chin and down my neck. Staining me blue in my inadequacy.