Words are not written
to pierce hearts,
To mend the broken ones
To heal the bruised ones
To stitch the torn ones
To love the lost ones
To kiss the hated ones
To miss the gone ones
To lose the loved ones
To stab the honest ones
To hurt the feeble ones
To tear the soft ones
To break the hard ones
To melt the cold ones
To feel the fallen ones
To crush the smashed ones
To throw the plastic ones
To pick the everlasting ones
To cry for someone
To lie to the only one
To steal someone's only one
To **** the brave ones
To crown the coward ones
To laugh on meek ones
To smile for no one
To see the invisible ones
To hear the mute ones
To scream to the deaf ones
To defeat the invincible ones
And to win the heart of someone.
Words are just written,
And for every reader,
every word
Every punctuation mark,
And every space
Tells a different story.
That's the beauty of words.

And when you left
I overwatered all your flowers

So many nights have been spent by writers trying to describe their loneliness as a choice when we could only pick our pens up to feel less lonely.

We may never find an audience for the words we say to ourselves, but we'll never run out. We'll still keep talking in the hope that someone will tell us that our words are the ones they needed to explain their loneliness too.

We're not writing to express; not always. Sometimes, we write to find pieces of ourselves outside us.