Some things leave your mouth

And never come home.

I’ve had words hit the room and change the air before I meant ’em,

Watched a moment split in two from somethin’ simple said too fast.

Not cruel enough to call it war, not far enough to cause momentum—

Just the kind that stays behind, builds guilt, and kicks my ass.

You think because it wasn’t violent it don’t carry any damage,

But there are cuts that don’t need blood to make a person stand there changed.

And once a thing is heard, it lives a life outside of your intention,

You can wish it softer all you want

You can’t unmake the reaction it arranged.

You can’t take it back

Once it’s got a pulse and breath.

Can’t pull it from the room

Once it’s sittin’ in somebody’s chest.

You can mean somethin’ else,

You can hate the way it sounds

But once it leaves your tongue,

It don’t belong to you now.

I’ve learned apologies are honest but they ain’t erasers,

And regret is just the echo of a door you closed too hard.

There’s a weight in knowin’ better after better could’ve mattered,

And a kind of quiet guilt that settles low against the dark.

So now I measure what I’m holdin’ just a little before I throw it,

Not from fear, but out of knowin’ what a sentence knows to do.

A man don’t need to scream to leave a bruise inside a memory,

Sometimes all it takes is sayin’ somethin’ true the wrong way through.

It ain’t about shame.

It’s about weight.

Knowin’ once it’s spoken,

It enters someone else’s space.

There are things I still remember that were said without much thinkin’,

Little lines that should’ve vanished but instead got in and stayed.

Not because they were the cruelest, but because they found the softest places,

And once they landed there, they changed the room in ways that never fade.

So I ain’t tryin’ to be perfect, and I ain’t tryin’ to be speechless,

I just know the mouth can carry more than breath and passing sound.

And every word a man lets loose has got a chance to build or damage,

So I’m slower now with what I mean before I lay it down.

You can’t take it back

Once it’s got a pulse and breath.

Can’t call it to your hand

Once it’s settled in somebody’s chest.

You can wish it cleaner,

You can wish it came out kind

But once it leaves your mouth,

It keeps livin’ in their mind.

Some things leave your mouth

And don’t come back.

That’s why they matter.

That’s why they last.