He uses my phrases.
The first time I heard him say one,
Just a short one,
Added onto the end of his sentence like an after thought,
It was the strangest feeling, I swear.
My words in another voice,
Deeper, more bass,
Same words
Different meaning.
The words that I use to show I'm excited,
That certain string of sounds,
That I created, that I fused together just for me,
Have become something to him
A way to show his own happiness, too
It wonderful.
When he's angry
The only words that can express his fury,
The only words that seem to do his rage justice
Are the ones I made,
Smashed together.
Half words, snippets of this word and that.
He uses one phrase when he wants something,
Puppy eyes and faux quivering lip
And the knowledge
That the only words I'll ever listen to
Are my own
Do you know how it feels?
To have your own words used against you?
It's wonderful.
And I absolutely love it.
He uses them all the time now
Other people hear it, too
And when they catch my eye,
Look between us and raise an eyebrow
I can't help but smile
And get the strangest feeling, I swear.