Words are like paperweights
weighing down the speeches of peace against war.
Words are the crutches of dry efforts
that hop on its rubber self to be loud.
Words are the stagnant headache that forgets
its way out and gets sewed at the lips.
Words are those identical miracles
one uses to unwrap hearts like opened palms;
ready to receive.
Words are the skin and bone of a devil
that sticks to your tongue, conflictingly, making it more flexible.
Words are those crashing dreams of a person
changing sides on his death bed; a listener he awaits.
Words are those failed bobbing of head
when you give up a thing (or person) you love the most,
in the name of sacrifices.
Words (for some) are afraid to be out
in broad day light.
Brute forces follow it
misinterpretation and gravity
posseses them faster than anything.
Those polysyllable touch the
dust way sooner than the ears.
Words are that boldness in bones
tucked under the fragility of breath
that can prevent a heart from rusting
or ambush it for it to bleed profusely.
So, I intend to use it wisely.