words cut hard,
not a precision knife-cut,
a-clean-slice-that-can-be-grafted-back-together-
and-b­arely-a-scar-is-seen cut,
but a jagged snaggle-toothed cut,
that breaks into you,
and takes a chunk or two out.
words leave a scar,
the kind i don't know whether it will be a fun story someday,
to wear proudly and talk about,
or something i hide from the world.
words heal, too -
to the right words, the cuts and scars are nothing-
easily fixed, made stronger than before.