Just Words.
They’re just words.
I didn’t believe actions speak.
Words seep through like mercury to a seabed;
polluting me completely.
Unlike a struck limb,
which numbs with pain,
a word sits and lingers..
longer than a contusion.
And what happens with actions?
-they get infected
like raunchy organ transplants,
in need of rejection.
But I
mull, I
ruminate and ponder I
think circumspectly I,
reevaluate and calculate,
weighing each letter precisely.
I understand less.
Intrigues of syllabic parries,
and grammatical campaigns subside as I
understand less,
control less.
The word stands alone;
I march by as they command me
the words gain control,
I…
One simple word causes my orbit.
The gravitational pull keeps me hovering, yet
I can’t reach it, swallow it…
-though neither may I escape it.
The word stands still;
I float in space,
unable to penetrate my verbal creation.
