Everything I Say Is Wrong

These words spew forth,
They erupt out of me,
I don’t know what my words mean,
I try to connect the dots,
And then I see who I have been.
They don’t say what I mean,
But they do say what I feel.
There is a growing disconnection,
Between my words and my feelings.
And I am a monster with those words,
Who spits hurt effortlessly,
I am endlessly misinterpreted.
Even by me.
The vocabulary I have is lost in the effort
To communicate in a lexicon
That can’t reflect me,
And my words go lost.
And in the moment I say those things,
Then I agonise over what I have said,
And I analyse the words away.
I vocalise the things I think I may have meant,
Spend hours dreaming up reasons,
For the contradictions.
But I am in a circulate of confusion,
Because I don’t know why words arrive,
And why I birth them when I do.
I am in a place of nowhereness,
My language restrains me.
My language is everything I feel,
And nothing I mean.
The control is gone,
Its direction is lost.
Everything I say feels right,
Yet, everything I say is wrong.

Leave your thought.