I've never liked the expression
'Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But words will never hurt me."
I think it undermines the power of words
It's undeniable that words have an impact on people
Letters strung together can sting a person's soul
When they are spoken with a tongue used like a whip
Words evoke passion,
They inspire us,
Make our blood boil,
Horrify us,
And yes, they can hurt us
To say that words can't hurt,
Is to demean all that words do
Look at Marat,
Martin Luther,
Shakespeare,
Darwin,
Hobbes,
Freud,
Orwell,
Paine
And tell me words can't change the world
Words are what I turn to when I have nothing left
I'd rather my bones break,
That would be much better,
Than to lose my dignity,
To have a record of voices
Tell me I'm useless,
I'm stupid,
I'm fat,
I'm never good enough
Always on repeat,
Always on my mind,
Always ringing true
Maybe I'm over analytical
Maybe I care too much
About things said in the past
But here's to all the "I love you's"
All the "I hate you's"
To saying "I don't give a ****"
The pen is indeed mightier than the sword
Because your words
Are what made me turn the blade
On myself

She waits for you,
Under a blossom tree,
Nestled in the furthest corner,
Of her floral mind.

She waits for you,
Throughout the winter,
And let's the cold,
Seek shelter within her icy veins,
Rooting her limbs to the frozen earth.

She waits for you,
As the rain falls through the wilting leaves,
And is thankful that she,
Is not the only tearful heart.

She waits for you,
Even when the storm grows violent,
And she grows fearful,
That the wind will break her fragile bones,
And tear down her vacant foundations.

She waits for you,
In the summer warmth.

She's waiting for the flowers.

*but they will cease to bloom