Until then

Our words come out, 

Unfiltered, rushed, harsh

Like chowder from a soup kitchen slobbered onto a hungry man's tray

Who hastily stuffs a spoonful into his mouth

The morsel that was supposed to soothe 

Must first burn the roof of the mouth

Must leave the tongue paralyzed for a minute 

Before the sigh of relief 

finally arrives.

Our words come out

Provocative, rebuking, heated

Like walking barefoot on sun-baked pavement 

There is pain

One winces with every step

Yet you walk...

until the first patch of shade.

Our words come out, they don't

Reticent, furtive, esoteric

Like a clandestine heirloom 

locked away in a secret treasure chest 

untouched for so long

no one remembers

who hid it there

Or why..

Our conversations, at a sudden halt

Dialogue, to monologue,

Diatribe to soliloquy 

Like a power cut, on a thunderstorm night 

Abrupt, startling 

Making one ebb for the switches instinctively, 

Look for candles, torches,

Any flame to ease

sitting in the dark

 

And just like that, 

We're back where we began 

Debating scruples, negotiating modicum needs

Adding

Erasing

Carrying 

Borrowing 

Hoping, one day

love stops feeling

like a sum

we must keep proving.

And until we earn our words,

we exist in silences.

PS: New poem style, who this? Hehe. Judge, Read, Grade. Just don't like, subscribe, share.