blood

here - don't you feel my thoughts pounding? they are running through my veins. not ice for blood, as some may believe, but words, tumbling around in the curved walls and waiting to spill out from the first rent or tear in my fragile skin. i thrive on these life-giving words - i depend upon the harsh irregular and sweet soft words, vying for attention. so don't tell me you can read my head like an open book, cracking my vessels open and tasting the sweet salty marrow of my bitter words and abashed feelings. you'd not want my forceful opinion spilling out like my life's blood - impossible to put back in. keep your own delusions - pounding through your temples and heating your body with the fury they provoke.