Oh yes, what are those words again?
how do they start, how and when?
sticks and stones may break my bones
but words will never hurt me
every part of my broken heart
realise the lies of that famous part

invisible fists from the verbal toil
now sit like cysts in my mental soil
a physical scar reminds me the past was real
but thanks to those fists, happiness feels surreal
a mouth from afar, a single breath
can start that silent, you know, death

the blackhole so numb
from a word so dumb
yet so strong to break my bones
and hurt so long in my fine ear drums
as the throw of blunt stones
on my skin that burns and stuns.