My Words

At my worst, I am my biggest enemy.
Crippled by old wounds, misguided daggers spewing from my mouth.
Their only desire is to cut through the tranquility of my surroundings, ensuring the sudden jolt of a slammed door and a heated dispute.
If I tape my mouth will these thoughtless ramblings be silenced?
What does it take for me to see past the core ramblings of my words into the hurt that it hurls at others, plastering a look of disappointment across their faces?
My ramblings are a reflection of what I protect myself from.
Saying what I think it is before it happens must create an imaginary barrier between me and the non-existent issue that I have created because I don't want it to exist.
A whirling tornado of complexity dismantles my peace.
Why is it so difficult to keep my mind silent and free from the lies I tell myself?
The past has a cruel way of leaving memories of itself behind me as I walk along like breadcrumbs in a fairytale.
Making it almost impossible to forget such moments where I lost the best in me.
Moments where I caused distress to prevent an occurrence that would have otherwise remained buried.
My words are either satin like a rose or sharp like the thorn upon its stem.
My only true intentions are to protect and preserve the peace, however, at what cost?