You should watch what you say.
Sometimes, when you feel like you are seen but not heard, there but not quite, you lash out with a storm that withstands longer than you ever did with your loneliness.
"
W o r d s
"
, you say. Just words.
words
word
wor
wo
w
.
A full stop. One that doesn't begin with another sentence. One that takes you to an unforgettable ride home. One that makes you tie a knot better than the one in your throat. One that makes you tower over your small, dingy room, overlooking your chaotic kingdom. One that started with a cord around your neck, and ended with one too. One that punctuates the medical report the autopsy sent back home when they said
suicide.
So yes, honey. They're just words. Except the ones that actually matter have been long gone, and the ones you say kill.
YOU ARE READING
Hiraeth
PoetryHIRAETH- (n.) A homesickness for a place you can never return to, a place which never was. Previously: Songs Of My Lonely Soul. *** A Song Of My Lonely Soul. A Ballad Of My Heart Whole. A Story That Was Never Said. When We Find It To Be Dead. ...
