Just Words

Glad, huh? That word eats dust.

Fine, Sorry, Maybe, Okay
They fill a bowl with maggots
Okay leaks out of my ear like melted brain
Sorry grips my heart and milks it of scalding blood
Burning like acid against ribs, leaving organs to fend for themselves
Fine and Maybe are in cahoots
Fine tags in Maybe for a smash down spectacular
Obliterating the emotion of feeling

“I’m Fine.”
“Won’t you just talk about it?”
“Maybe.”

Here comes Glad, in the form of a sightless thought,
“I’m Glad you stopped asking.”

I crave words like Banana
And Terrific
Idiosyncratic
And Immaculate -
Words that wash away a maggot filled bowl
Slithering and slimy, tame to the idea of eating rotted flesh.
The vacuum of space, occupying the sink drain, strips away insect intent
They wiggle regardless

Oblivious to words which cuddle up, content not to be spent
Words like Sanguine, Ennui, Blithe, Love
Letters that turn splish to splash and wish to wash
So Glad, huh? That word fucking sucks.