The words break into a clot
coagulates in the heart till
all the blood flows to finger tips
crossed on the chest, wistfully
narrating tales of failed relationships.
Can words kill at dead of night?
Tightness in the chest caged in anger,
welts of anxiety brand with hot iron
till saliva in the mouth dries,
the insides like squishy seal falls apart
in your hands. You thump the empty cave,
muted cries fall silent in a dark well
as you scoop the blackness of night
for dregs of life at bottom of the cup
he left unwashed in the sink.