Sticks and Stones

May break my bones.

But your words will always hurt more.

They slit my wrists,

 They tear at my insides, 

They bruise my heart and soul.

Damaging me forever.

Words change my thought process,

My view upon myself.

Your words make me hate myself,

Everyday more than the last. 

When you drop a glass, it will never go back to the way it was before.

I’m not a puzzel;

I can’t be in a hundred pieces and put back together the way I once was.

Sticks and Stones will always be better than the words

I throw at myself.