I always find myself in the dead of night. In the whisper of solitude. A creaking of steps. A clunking of boots on the linoleum. A scraping and squealing of chairs on the hard wood. A hard head that rests heavy. On the shoulder of the love seat. The backbone of the bed. I always find myself in silence. In your scent. I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. I stare at my hands in the blood stained sink. A bruised ego. A torn sleeve. Screaming as I wake. I always eat my words. I always eat my words. I always stare at the process of your hands. I always smile at the grimace of your stance. I always eat my words. I always spit in signals. I always wake in sweat. I always scream at your silence. I will never hurt you. I will never eat your words. I’ve always been a lark. The swelling of a tree. A tire swing. I always bite my tongue. I’ve always left too late. I always keep you close. I always chew the tips of my fingernails. Biting bits of skin. I always knew. I always eat my words. I always knew I loved you. I always eat my words.
Joshua Tool – 12/30/12