Slice

If I were to slice my arms 
from wrist to elbow
the only thing that would
spill out
would be
all the words
I was too afraid to use

You see
I am
too rash
and too brash
and too much of a
pain in the ass
for your china shop heart

I am the bull that charges
when it sees red
and red is
after all
the color of love

But I can't afford
to pay any more
for the damage I leave
on your fragile 
heart floor

I have given away
all my best words
verbed all my best nouns
down to stunted nubs
and spoiled my soil
until nothing will grow
in my empty fields
and scar-line rows

So don't ask me
to slice myself
open again
for you

because I don't want to

You cannot have my words

I need them

For me

12/10/2015