In the beauty of words
lies
a truth
inside beyond
the
words that scar skin and
act as the terrorist
suicidally bombing your heart
Words that lie heavy on the tongue
only to dangle between parting lips
leave you wondering if anything
could ever be so true
becoming brilliant like
something that you
could succumb to
ending with
fatigue following the brilliance of the sun
and the discovery of
forced empathy
exuding from empty souls
Frustrated by the endless banter
of the innocent thoughtless ones
You want to hurt them, oh but that
isn’t...
no matter
they're already, in a sense
dead
You need something real
to make you feel:
four
bruised knuckles; an array of color;
a rainbow of tender pain
colliding, clashing and then comforting
finalized.
dulled eyes
once too bright
now you have to fight to get past
that dead stare
sitting so quietly amid the noise;
lost and found in a peaceful nothing place