Words

I want to say something

But I'm scared to open my mouth,

I don't know what will come out:

Black or White.

Will I harm or heal with my words,

Will you hear what I say,

Or another configuration

Of these words that tumble out?

Will I say what I mean,

Or something else?

Will you filter it through your own glasses,

That distort and disfigure my thoughts?

How do I know if we'll meet,

Or graze each other in passing?

It seems easier to stand still,

Not talking.

But the words tumble out

From some strange place inside

That INSISTS on being heard,

Regardless of the cost.

And so I say it all

While saying nothing,

Playing hide-and-seek with you,

While I'm choking.

8/5/10