I want to say those words.
I feel them scratching, tearing their way up my throat
until they\'ve reached the tip of my tongue.
I bite down hard, so they\'ll never see the light of day.
I want to say those words.
But instead, I ask about your day,
too afraid that you won\'t want to hear them.
Those three words continue to eat at my mind and soul,
pleading for me to speak them.
I continue to bite my tongue,
until the inevitable day they\'ll spill out like pomegranate seeds
from the depths of my core for you to see.
Will you eat them?
Savoring their sour-sweetness.
Or will you let them rot,
never to know the warmth of you.