Well-Meant Words

Well Meant Words

Flinging combustible vernacular
And calling it care,

Not seeing the destruction
Those well-meant words ignite,
Consuming the softest edges
Of my soul.

But I must remain numb and dumb.
Were I to speak, I would lose myself
Within the rivers of animosity,
Feeding the emotional mountains
With gray mud sliding to muck,
Leaving you drowned,
As you have smothered me.

I cannot leave you feeling
That you have made me better.
I have a conscience,
Or a higher nature
Above your earthly confusion.

The leash on which you keep me
Chokes me tighter,
Pains me deeper,
All for your recreational ego.
My will to live is ebbing
In this hellfire of desperation.