Poems (collection 1.0)

Words Hurt

Sometimes I forget how much words hurt until the next time time one comes flying my my way and it shards my heart like shrapnel and sinks into my soul like so many small slivers and then there's always the sting of salt on the wound and the taste of the tang of blood on my tongue and it's like I'm ripped into two and it can be so much harder to bear than I remember every single time

You'd think I would be used to this

But every time it hurts just as much as the last or maybe even more and it's funny how our memory has a way of making everything of the past seem better than it was and it's always worse in the moment but I guess it's just trying to protect us from the pain the memories bring every time we think back or when we lay in bed at night and remember and think and everything seems to build up and overflow anyways so I guess it's better that it doesn't hurt as much to remember it as it did when it was happening

But at the same time it makes me a little sad to think that all my brightest happiest memories are overplayed and they weren't quite so happy as I remember them to be because then it feels like I've never had such a wonderful moment in my life and maybe I never will and sometimes that makes me want to cry and I never ever want to cry

But it just goes to show how much a word can change and how impactful a single sentence might be in a lifetime because the good things seem better and the worst things stay stuck on you like a wasp to honey but not as sweet and with a more venomous sting

And then again words can help expel all the things that build up in your mind overtime and they can so easily spill onto a page but how is it that when we when I try to say them out loud when I try to explain what's going on inside of me and what's happening to me I never have the right words to convey the emotions and the right expressions to portray the feelings that I'm feeling feeling feeling

I feel so much and it seems the only thing that understands me is the pen that I speak through and the paper that holds it all together and the ink that forms on the page and the words that come together to make the sentences that someone may eventually read but it'll never be the same again as the moment it's written