biting words.

a brief description about what goes on inside my head.

Heated shallow words
bite and burn my skin;
the scars they leave build and build
until I am something else entirely.

I am no longer my own,
instead consumed by boiling words
and loathed by single syllables.

My outside is still myself;
with the same hands and lips.
but with every breath I take
my soul can't help but to crumble
and pray for a day in which it can break