An Iron Sword

Those words Forming from your mouth

With more than a tinge of poison

Slowly creeping into me

Adding to the weight of my bones

Those words

Forming from your mouth

Feeling the butterflies wings just break in my chest

Tying my hands with ropes

And pulling me down

Those words In my mind like a mantra

Replaying in mayhem

Replacing each thought

With those cold words

Freezing my eyes open

And demanding me to stay awake

Those words

Forming from your mouth

Spitting at me

Daring my patience to rupture

Those words

Are more than just sounds

They are pointed knives

That slowly Kill