They say words have powers.
Each like little blossoming flowers.
“Kotodama” they say.
Japanese people have acknowledged how strong words can be that we use day to day.
Every word has an influence,
Exists within everyone’s mind, causing quite an ambivalence.
Do we really recognise how heavy our words can be?
Do we really recognise how light our words can be?
I for one, am not sure.
A part of me is still insecure.
I’m unable to scale how much my words might change.
This might just sound strange.
I still don’t know if my words were too weak to keep them safe from their fears.
Or if my words were too strong that it encouraged them to leave me in thousands of tears.
I don’t trust myself with words.
They can be majestic as freely flying butterflies or as dreadful as brutally shot down birds.
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 1:46 PM UTC
They say words have powers.
Each like little blossoming flowers.
“Kotodama” they say.
Japanese people have acknowledged how strong words can be that we use day to day.
Every word has an influence,
Exists within everyone’s mind, causing quite an ambivalence.
Do we really recognise how heavy our words can be?
Do we really recognise how light our words can be?
I for one, am not sure.
A part of me is still insecure.
I’m unable to scale how much my words might change.
This might just sound strange.
I still don’t know if my words were too weak to keep them safe from their fears.
Or if my words were too strong that it encouraged them to leave me in thousands of tears.
I don’t trust myself with words.
They can be majestic as freely flying butterflies or as dreadful as brutally shot down birds.
