A mouth full of quiet

It's curious..

how long

I could carry a silence,

as if it belonged to me.

 

Only to empty

years of it

into someone

I thought I knew.

 

All that silence..

for what?

 

Maybe I believed

intention

could survive the telling.

 

But people

rarely carry

the intention.

 

They carry

the impact.

 

And once

my words

leave me,

 

they are

no longer mine.

 

So I keep

holding

pieces of myself

a little longer.

 

Until,

one quiet day,

 

I realize..

not every listener

keeps

what was meant.