Worm Words - A1

Don’t let my liquor’d-up words
worm too far into your brain.
They may have left my mouth,
but that don’t mean they came
with a blueprint or a plan.

Liquor loosens every filter,
lets the garbage wander free,
and sometimes what escapes the cerebral
ain’t what the sober mind would mean.

So how do you find
the applicable snowflake of intent
inside a blizzard made of words?
How do you excavate a confession
from a drunken pile of dirt?

If I have something big to say,
something important, something true,
I’ll eventually find the language
to say it soberly to you.

So save your imperfect telepathy,
your forensic search for clues.
Replay with all the good days
instead of hunting down bad news.

Don’t set sail with conclusions
Through the haze of a liquid blaze.
The devil loves a drunken sentence
With its distorted clarity.

Because at best you’ll find
a fractured reflection of a truth
in the words that wandered out
through a mind’s liquid lazy river.

And a drunken thought
is not necessarily a destination.
Sometimes it’s just a worm
looking for a dark place to hide.

But if you keep feeding it,
turning whispers into warnings,
turning shadows into monsters,
turning maybes into mornings—

you can will a problem into being
just by giving it a name.

Foreshadowing the cancer
before the body ever bleeds.
Planting little seeds of suspicion,
growing weeds where love needs peace.

A retrospective rewrite,
the cerebral lens of doubt,
where every yesterday gets edited
until a problem must come out.

And suddenly the words I barely meant
become evidence in your mind.
Every drunken little syllable
gets subpoenaed one more time.

Worm words.

Burrowing deeper than they deserve.
Growing teeth they never had.
Building monsters out of fragments
and making innocent things look bad.

So let the liquor have its nonsense.
Let the drunken river flow.
Not every word that leaves a mouth
is a truth you need to know.

If something matters,
I’ll say it in the light.
Not through a bottle.
Not through a liquid night.

Because love shouldn’t be a mining operation
searching for a buried crime.
Sometimes a fractured reflection
is only fractured light.

And sometimes worm words
are just worm words—

and nothing more.