Six small words, that's all.


Six. Small. Words. 


Yet they sit mute on my tongue, held tightly by fear of the destruction they will cause. 

Seven syllables.
Swirling around my brain, screaming through my consciousness everytime we talk, begging to be spoken, consuming my every panicked thought.

Twenty two letters.
A small amount, though enough to tear two worlds into shreds and cast friendship into darkness everlasting.


They're only words, right?

If that were true, I would scream them across the sea, my truth drowning out the roar of the tide..... but these words would take you from me, so I bite down on them, imprison them within, where they churn and spit with fury at my cowardice.

Six small words I'll always mean but never say, seven syllables that would send you reeling, running, betrayed.  Twenty two letters that I could only ever follow with "I'm sorry" as I watch you walk away.