Well Meant Words

Well Meant Words

Flinging combustible vernacular,
Calling it love,
Not seeing the destruction
Those well meant words ignite,
Consuming the softer edges
Of my soul.

But I must remain dumb and dumb.
Were I to speak, I would loosen myself
Within the rivers of animosity,
Feeding the mountains
From mud sliding muck,
Leaving you drowned,
As you have smothered my dreams.

I cannot leave you feeling
As you have made me feel.
I have a conscience
Of a higher nature
Than your earthly confusion.

The leash on which you keep me
Chokes me tighter,
Pains me deeper,
All for your recreation.
My will to live is ebbing
In this hell fire of desperation.