Maybe, I let them get to me,
the words thrown at me like
glass shards left scars on my
arms and legs, maybe my
own fragile heart, when it broke,
in two. Hoping that one person,
that always appear, to glue it
back, and never let it break.
Maybe, my words will only echo
through people's ears, and bounce
against the walls and it'll drip blood.
Blood from the people, who suffered
before me, who didn't make it.
Maybe those words will always,
be there to bother me, wherever I go.
Words hurt.
Maybe, I let them get to me, the words thrown at me like glass
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·
May 22, 2015 9:40pm
