Cut Off

My words are
tired of forming
and articulating
the thoughts in my
head
 
They all run together
and lose sight of their
meaning once they’ve
over-spoken their
welcome
 
Everything I did
was always for you
and I guess I’ve lost
control
 
To this burning bowl in
my hand and this drink
in my glass. I guess
I’ve given up hope of
control being painless
and tolerable
 
No matter how you
dice it what you cut
it with it’s hard-hitting
and hard to handle
 
I’m cutting myself
off
 
No more words for
you
No more words for
you

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