Poems of a broken artist

Enemies?

All enemies I've gotten have accumulated to my hatred of life. 

All enemies have added onto my growing desire to end things, 

              people, 

                   hopes, 

                        dreams, 

                              myself. 

Any number of things can be ended in simple words, 

                                 we put too much meaning to silly things. 

                      a few syllables in the right direction can end a life or save it. 

Why put so much on the back of silly little sounds anyone can mimic? 

So much meaning to made up letters and phrases. 

                                         So much riding on so little. 

                                                      All the power imaginable in simple sentences. 

Like being a god. 

But so many think too use it for nothing, 

                                   or. 

                                                            For harming. 

yes, a knife going across my arm draws blood and stings, 

                           but the words in my head Kill. 

                            What do your silly meaningless little syllables do?