I wish I could see them

I wish I could paint my words in the air, have them shimmer before me until I understand what to keep or dispel. I wish to dance in the flames of my passionate speeches, to reconstruct and edit my outbursts.

I wish to know my mind as you see it, to discover the secrets unknown to me. To watch the cadence of my compassion, to ebb the haste of my anger.

Here we are in the midst of our verbal vibrations, forgetting what was spoken, being told what others remember...wading in a pool of invisible but sometimes permanent sounds that resonate, revive, or utterly destroy others and ourselves.

I wish I could see them, as they stay with me or stay with you forever. I wish I could choose them - a visual marker before they're released, so I could paint our lives with beautiful words and edit myself when I'm ugly inside.

Instead, I get and you get my raw moments, and insecure slips, my overly devoted love language, and biting sarcasm. Dependant only on my mind, which is often impatient and hasty, and only sometimes knows when to shut up. Oh I wish, so much, I could see them...