Left Unsaid

Words can sit in my head, but they are not always said. They say time is of the essence, but what if I want to take my time? ... I don't take my time- I rush. Words spurt out my mouth until I choke. Words of hatred, loathing, until distaste finally settles on my tongue. It leaves me with regret, sorrow for sure. I spoke-𝘕𝘰, 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 with no remorse, It leaves me mourning for the life I could have had. I should have bargained for more. But now I lay in bed, thinking not about the contempt for my words now, but the ones unspoken, for sometimes the best words are left unsaid.