silver

I have a quick tongue.

I hear that it runs in my blood.

I say it's in my bones. In my salt.

Everything that's sharp and hard in me.

I run it down my tongue

and spit it between my teeth.

Words with barbs

intended to hurt.

I'd say I speak without thinking,

but really I run my mouth

for far too long and far too loud.

Until it's far too late to say

"I'm sorry"

and sound like I mean it.