Sliding Razor Pieces of Thought

Not usually do we/are we able to see the words
as they come out of us/as they radiate bouncing
crashing into ears sliding down the canal to the
drum; bang/bang/bang…let me in…but
there are moments/instances of micro time where
we see them come out…in slow motion/moving like
it is very cold/their joints ache/they’re too pained
to get from here to there/from your mouth to where
they land/smash/splatter and stain…and when you
see them you see edges and angles sharp fear
etched on sliding razor pieces of thought crammed
into what is flowing unstoppable from you…and that
is it I think…why you see them; you want them back/you
scream without sound at their trajectory/their arrow
straight aim at the heart/the brain/the soul…meant to
hurt/to stab/to inflict…and mid-flight when the last
letter/punctuation/gasp has left you feel the impression
left on lip/heart/soul you tell your hand to reach and
rip the words away away knock them from going from
destroying…but…they can’t/they never can/they are gone
before you know they are gone so watching them
really is the only thing you get/you have/you see when
you see them hit/hurt and feel the pain inside you where
you should/you should/you should

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