Intentions of Healing

If my teeth were made of glass

I’d shred the words I say to hurt you

Turning “I don’t love you”s into

“Told you no lie”s

And bite my tongue to taste the blood

I’ll let the ridges cut you when I lick your wounds

Ink and bold print dripping from your ears

But my bitter sorry’s would come out ugly

And salt makes me vomit

The fire in my mind doesn’t burn your skin

And the smoke won’t make you tear

You’re black with soot while I dig your grave for a diamond

And you don’t know it as I bite your shoulder

There’s a taste of my own medicine gone rancid

This is when I learned not to swallow

I’d rather hurt you than heal myself