The philosophy of language

I sit at the table of your words and nitpick at them

I savor the best of your compliments till I'm full with your pleasure

Then I choke on the drink of your criticism

They seem to always go down the wrong pipe hole coughing up my confusion

What you meant in love runs back through my nose in pain

Like we were from two different planets

Or maybe your words were not meant to be fast food

To be handled in a rush but for dinning

Dissecting every flavor of pain as it swirls in my mouth and juices out my well being

I can't hear you

All I hear are past events

So I'm fighting you

You who loves

I'm fighting them

They who hate

All with the same weapon of fear and the need to prove myself

So forgive me if my actions cause you to bleed

The philosophy of language

The things meant to sharpen also hurt

But I'm accustomed to running from pain

So forgive me if my actions hurt

It's the only way I know how to be.