Just Words

 

Growing older and older, 

I hated words. 

And even as they got louder,

nothing could hurt worse.

I refused to speak,

'cause I didn't want to hear

myself say words that I feared.

 

One night, God woke me up.

And all those words I kept locked up

no longer silenced their grief.

They begged for release

and for relief. 

From my head to my fingers,

the words would linger.

I wrote without knowing

what I was writing.

 

Once I finished, I looked down.

The screen was filled with words.

Words of forgiveness, of atonement.

Words begging my friends

to not jump at any moment. 

 

I shook my head.

They're just words.

Words that mean nothing.

They were the same words,

I would always dread.

But they mean't nothing

I refused to believe 

that they can mean anything.

 

Because If I believe otherwise,

that they really do mean something,

it would be the end of my running.

And that is scarier

than any word can mean.