My Dark Poems

Words

The consequence
Known for
Holding words
In
Letting them
Pollute your mind
With "what ifs"
And inconssitent
Slaps
Everytime
It happens
Another time
The consequence
Of speaking
Spitting
Words
With sounds and syllables
That could form
A word
Cruel or just
Depending
On ones
Mood
Depending
On the sharpened
And poisoned tougue
The truth chains
But lies
Flee the mind
Leaving stricter chains
And a heartbreak
When your choice of
Words
Is a mistake
Don't take this
The wrong way
This isn't personal
No offense
But everything formed
From you mouth with scorn
Will hurt and devour
The mind of another
As your vulgar
Song is on repeat
And one begins to sing along
What you say
Is not exactly
Precisely
What you mean
It becomes lost in translation
Like Psalms in the breath
In the pen
Of a man
Who is unoriginal
In the words he writes
In the ink smears
On his knuckles
In the red ink
That drips from his sheet
That was draped over wood
Tucked away neat
The consequence
Of holding
Words in
Letting them pollute
You mind
With "what ifs"
Is as tolerable
As a slap
To the face
By a woman
Who became irate
When she asked
About how she looked
How the dress seemed to stretch
And honesty escaped
Through the tip
Of you tongue
And a red mark
That stings
Is all you have left