Words

Must you keep your words locked
In a tiny little box?
They feel of wood, they smell of wine
And they sound of whispers divine
Does everyone have a key?
Does everyone have the key, but me?
What if I say Please?
Dear friend,
I won't pretend
I can't pretend
You know me well
And your words that have always meshed with mine
Do they fear me now?
Conversations changing in an instant
To uncomfortable silences
I can taste the bile parchness in my mouth
We're woefully overcompensating, but
We can get past this bump in the road, I believe.
Though you're not offering me yours
Here are a few words of mine
Kiddo, hand me the coveted key
When you change your mind.