Mommy always said “Never Talk to Lawyers”
The tickle in my throat, the words reach my lips,
Scratching to get out, chapping fiercely,
I feel the words slipping off the tip of my tongue,
But catch them with a hand,
Cupped, they suffocate.
The words were true, but filled with hate,
They burned my mouth, until my saliva boiled,
Me, a child, afraid to spew songs so acidic,
As long as they were in me, only I hurt,
Aloud, cage-free, my wings would grow in spite of him.
A startling tap on my shoulder,
She asked me tiredly if I was ready to talk yet,
I told her in a low voice what I was feeling,
Inaudible, she asked me to repeat myself,
And in a tone slightly higher, I asked for some Chapstick.
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