My words are venom.I spit from my mouth a terrible poison.Sorrow and pain linger on my breath.I want my tongue to be sweet like honeyElderbe rry s yrup dripping down my throat ,B ut my tongue is forked.
I hiss an d send curses up into the heavens.Ever warring , m y words are bitt er cold, a frost that burns.Dark ness set tles over the land — a murkin ess unending —And I am afraid.
I am sc ared I may never find which tree to hang myself fromTo rest under its branchesTo pau se and find that eternal blissTo un lock the myster y of how to speak life, tenderlyand have it burst forth o ff the t ip of my ...
‘ Let there be lig ht, ’ I whisper timidly.‘ Let there be light, ’ I beg.
