When you wish to take my words
they were yours anyway-
though to take
is not to receive
and to give
is not to be taken from.
When you take my words
you know you take not
my essence,
not my reasons
not the thing that
makes me tremble-
I call it thing for I lack
its word.
When you know
you should also know
that I know, I knew
before I pricked my fingertips
so the words might
seep out, so slowly,
that when I touched your ear,
your paper, your screen
there would be only words.
Still, you told me so
like explaining love to a child.
When you take my words
you do not take my essence,
my reasons, my tremble.
You take only
all that I have
and the most I can give.
I would ask you to treat them well
if I could speak.
Don't tremble or allow the takage. It's not about words, as poets wish. You are wrong and out of time and words won't bring you back - it's about life and truth ... your words are lies and cheap - pretty and petty.. Belonging is not for you.
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