My words are my enemy

My words are my enemy

When I think... I think deep within the depths of my mind
The thoughts I conjure up are prolific... awe to others
When I speak... you can’t help but to listen
I am not loud... but I am never the last to speak
My words are my enemy...
They hunt my mind... bring about thoughts uncompromising
I don’t mean to capture the attention of minds and hearts
I don’t want the attention of souls... hungry for simple thoughts of deep space
How can I be amazing for thinking... and saying what many dare not to say?
How can I speak volume to the hearts of those who look my way with attention?
My words are my enemy...
I don’t know everything about love... but when I speak
I speak from the wisdom the Word... it’s a gift and privilege to love
Again I speak this with my own words... but here... now, to myself
I am not amazed or in awe... just confused as to why
My words are my enemy