I Was Born With A Tangled Tongue and They Cut It

My tongue is heavy with words my veins have choked me with. They don’t know but the greatest poems are written with bloody ink. Take the knife, lick it and cut me open because I am a little bit too beautiful and dangerous. Collect the secrets lying in between my ribs and behind my organs. I carry enigmas that would break the human heart but they would turn you on. I have sharp teeth and I leave bad bruises when I speak. Rip my tongue out of my mouth because I will promise you, words of lust and poetry. So slowly darling, kiss my back and let me know how I taste.

Swallow, swallow my bad words baby, because I don’t need them to speak. Let me bleed and they will understand that poets like me are born once every century; to love, to destroy, to pray, and to be art.

Oh, my good God it hurts saying I love you to him, because that is the only truth I have never doubted. That is the beginning and the end of me.

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