Words

Katrina Kaye

I do not use my words
like stringed instruments.

They are not plucked
with such distinction.
They are tossed about,
careless as September,

left to crumble under
the heels of black boots,
graying with wear.

Every word is a burden,
a yellowed fleece wrapped
around shoulders crumbling backbone.

Promises undelivered at front door,
lies folded across the lap at dinner table,
a late night seduction no one hears.

I drown in conversation.

How many feet can shove between lips
before the chips and cracks run too deep;
before there is nothing left to repair?

Do I dare attempt
to crush the shells
stacked between teeth?

Do I dare attempt
to mend stretched threads
with the truth hidden in my gut?

Or shall I wait until the tide of time
takes my words from me?

“Words” is previously published in September (2014).

One thought on “Words

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s