Every time a sentence is spoke,
It can never be taken back,
Its out now for the whole world to hear.

Once someone opens their mouth and lets words drip out,
Those words are imprinted onto the world,
And time cannot be re-winded.

"So speak wisely," Everyone says,
But no one can seem to follow this small simple rule.
Why is it so difficult to think before speak?

Arguments can leave scars,
Lies and rumors can hold such damage.

Words have an impact, but many seem to forget,
As the letters dance out of their mouths and into thin air,
Already turning into a wild tornado storm and destroying who every is in its way.

Words seep deep within ones skin, burring in deep,
And burning that victim, as tears soon slip out and begin to fall.

"Words hurt," They told me,
But I never knew that they would make a tare in one's heart,
Damaging for a long time, and placing it in deep into one's memory.

Words have affect, words do hurt,
And words have a lasting effect,
So choose carefully before you let out a sentence that is filled with hurt.

When I  was young I had a dream
Of what I might morph into.
I made great plans of what I'd  do;
I know now they might have come true -
But for the ****.

In those times I could be real strong,
Stand up straight and sing my songs.
But nobody else could see the need.
Could have done it all -
But for the ****!

Sometimes high but mostly low,
Searching for the afterglow,
Traveling  far while losing speed
Might have gone far -  
But for the ****.

Before those days my hair was kept.
Bad went to worse the more I slept.
Times with friends began to slide
Would have kept a proper stride
But for the ****.

If you listen well you can learn from me
**** takes roots and goes to seed  
I let my dreams go up on in smoke
Could have had it all -
But for the ****.

There's a lot left to say;
Not a lot of time to say.
I'll be dead before I'm 30,
And I wish I could stay.

I have given you all of my heart,
For I have loved you from the start.
Your eyes look through my soul,
You see your name on my heart.

I don't know when, where, or why.
I know one day we'll be together.
I don't know how long, but I'm sorry
That you'll have to live with losing me.

even now, the memories of yesterday  
cold and grey emerge from cracks and walls  
like ghosts who seek for no final soft places.  

there are words, and there are none
as you go back to the coffin house:  

where among warm corpses you have to endure  
the long and slow dance of night and day  

while breathing the air filled with words and voices
blooming from tongues soaked in poison and ash,  

may you return like a flower  
with the memory and hunger
for the firelight of stars and comets.

We are always interpreting ourselves,
Interpreting our actions, thoughts
and even those interpretations.
Will becomes the extension,
So too does it look upon
itself to ask where
the arbitrary line
should be drawn.
Where do I end,
Where does the machinery
of my intention take the place
of the unequivocality that I saw.