the words of a blank mind will always have a blank meaning
the words of a troubled mid will either inspire, or destroy
the words of a content mind will be few and to the point
the words of an angry mind will be plentyfull, and colourfull
the words of a broken heart....
.
.
.
.
are broken
What are your words?
are you telling what you feel?
are your words feeling hollow because you hide what drives them
are you protecting other, or yourself?
is it pride?
or control?
or love?
or
the fear....
.
.
of something as small as a tear
do you fear what may happen if you let the emotions run through your viens like a fire coarsing through dry paper, dry from the lack of tears of late... dry from the ink that hasn't graced it's surface in almost an age of isolation.
do you fear not being able to stop the run of bulls that would be unleashed if you just screamed at the world for what has been done to you? a scream that would echo through time, whisper through minds and thunder through hearts.
do you fear to allow that love you have chased for so long finally into your itty bitty black little heart? the love you now have with you almost always.. at your side, in your dreams....
or is it simply you have nothing left to fall
are your eyes dry because the reservoir has long since been emptied
have you nothing left to feel
are you to solid? too callous..
.
.
.
.
to cold
let me warm you.
i love you,
your words are always
always what a want to hear
always what i need
always true
always you
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