The thing about words is
They don't leave any
Physical marks.
Words whip you with
Empty feelings,
Harsh intentions,
And insecurity.
They make you feel
Good one minute.
The next, you're in bed
Crying your eyes out.
Words have no regaurd for how
You feel or
What you need.
The flow openly like water,
But hurt like
A million shards of glass.
They grab ahold of your wrist,
Pressing all the pressure points;
Forcing you to submit
And to succumb
To all the pleasure
And pain they carry with them.
Words could never leave a physical mark
Upon your body.
Even if they did appear upon your body,
Who would believe you?
No one.
Words have no substance
But yet,
They are everything.
Words are not bricks
But sometimes they feel
As if they weigh a ton.
Words are like people.
They can build you up.
Break you down.
Change you.
Damage you forever.
And sometimes,
They leave
No physical marks.
Words come out
To play when you are down.
Words and thoughts
Have a lot in common.
They can haunt you
And taunt you.
Push you
And pull you.
Make or
Break you.
Yet they leave
Not a single trace
For others to detect.
Untraceable.
They disappear into the wind;
Without a sound,
Or a physical mark.
YOU ARE READING
The Secret Confessions Of A High School Senior
Non-FictionMy life in free-verse poetry. I'm a seventeen year old high school senior, and these are my secrets, confessions, wants, needs and so much more.
