words from a broken soul

Laced Poison

My words are something I'm good with
Or that's what I'm told I beg to disagree
Everything is from a mind to loud
All of them show pain forced onto me
But one word I fear will never sit right
Love I understand the concept and it's weight
Yet every time I utter it I feel a blade
That slips past my ribs into my heart
Because understanding doesn't equate knowing
The word feels laced with poison for me
I say it because it's expected of me
Even when I can't put warmth to it
Just comes out flat and weightless
Is there a meaning to it I wonder
I know there is yet I feel like I drank poison after saying it

Perhaps I can understand something but not know it all the same
So why does one simple word haunt me so
Perhaps its the fact I never felt loved
Maybe the fact the love I got growing up makes my skin crawl
Mayhaps my brain finds it illogical
Could even be my brain just fails to recognize something
It never fully got from family but
Did from those outside the curse of the blood in my veins
None are rational but that last one
Hits harder compared to the rest
Is that why I still talk to an ex?
Nah it's because we both suffered in hell
We both for the most part kept each other from taking a knife and just ending it all
Is that why I still care for them or is it because they're the closest person to make me fully loved

Not some tax break
Not some form of financial aid
Not someone used in a war I wasn't aware of
Just someone who's broken and I still persist because it's all I know
They'll likely die before me fate is twisted like that one on a ticking clock
Me on a clock that's constantly restarting
Words flowing never slowing showing the madding mind of mine
So many things left unsaid words uttered unable to take back
Words to questions I know will never be answered
Mine always feel laced with poison under honey
Theirs are blunt and jagged painful
And yet they feel like something
I never felt almost freeing will never work out
Lost count to the amount we tried
Got questions of was it me or do the gods think we shouldn't make the inevitable more painful
Than it eventually will be when their clock hits zero
I'll never know but I do know a lot of those times will be seen
Through the view of rose tinted glasses because they're only times I genuinely felt like I mattered for someone
That me being a mess was still something worth caring about that
They'd force me to respond the wouldn't let me dismiss my own pain they'd press even when I knew it wasn't fully need sure it led to a breakdown or two
It's still better than letting my mind cannibalise itself
Love will forever taste as if its laced in poison for me sometimes it won't
But ultimately it will still feel wrong when escaping my lips.