Your Words Poem by Not Long Left

your words are intusive.
like the wind sneaking through,
the window of a warm house.
finding the spot,
and raising the hairs.

when very angry,
those words become painful,
like heaven sent hailstones,
emotional atomic bombs,
seeping through to the skin
long after the eventual silence.

The words you eject,
to me the subject,
are leech like in there quest,
to bury and imbed themselves,
in me.
flowing in my red rivers,
departing only when,
i have managed to direct them,
into the cell,
and like any modern prison,
this one is also filling up fast.