Messy.

my words

are

...messy

a three year old caked with cotton candy

chasing a goose around the petting zoo

that his parents brought him to

on a not-too-hot, not-too-warm summer day

they often

f

l

o

w

from my mouth with no

hesitation

...but only when i speak of admiration

for the one who gave me salvation

and sponsored my deportation

from

hell

otherwise

i'm as silent as the grave

whoops

sorry

"quiet as a church mouse"

but really i'm screaming

at my myself

at the circumstances

at the people

at you

but no sounds can be heard from my shut tight mouth

fear takes my words and distorts them

challenges them

tells them that they're worth nothing

which contradicts what he tells me about me

he calls me conquerer

warrior

blessed

loved

worthy

precious

daughter

and i believe him

at least...

...i should

he hasn't proven me wrong

his words aren't poison

his words are life and truth

his words are the only ones that i can

completely

totally

certainly

trust

his words are eloquent

clean

articulate

true to anyone

specific for everyone

mine are just

...messy.