Words stitch together like that bear I saw at the store. They sound all beautiful until they get used over and over and over till finally they get worn down. So much that sometimes the words I hear aren't there. Weightless words rolling of the tongue trying to get to my ears but it stops and goes into my head. I sit and ponder weightless words trying to find some meaning to them, make them worth something even though they've been used several thousand times.
When you hear the broken seam of sentences and feel the weight being carried on your shoulders by the sound of knowing that everything you don't want to hear is true. Truthful words are much heavier than weightless ones. Broken promises strung together with reused thread because you believed that they would truly fix what the broke.
Words are like objects, being fixed and reused. They're broken and beautiful; they're painful yet perfect. When someone hears the same reused sentence formed with the worn down thread we snap and break just like the words; after a while all we hear is white noise.
YOU ARE READING
Broken to Bits
PoetryA collection of Poems to read if you feel as like no one understands you.
