Insults travel trough generations.
They embed themselves in our minds,
Echoing the same phrase:
"You are nothing."
Somehow the phantom voices
Hurt more than the bruises across our cheeks
Because the purple and blue fades over time.
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But at least they heal.
Words are harder to forgive.
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 10:38 AM UTC
Insults travel trough generations.
They embed themselves in our minds,
Echoing the same phrase:
"You are nothing."
Somehow the phantom voices
Hurt more than the bruises across our cheeks
Because the purple and blue fades over time.
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But at least they heal.
Words are harder to forgive.
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