Of Words

It’s more than just cheap words or a rhyme-

Without meaning it’s just a waste of breath and there isn’t a reason.

There’s absolutely no time for love without love, an empty husk, a beautiful shell.

And see, that’s just it. Do we have time?

Is taking someone’s time just a selfish, self-fulfilling act,

Or could it be meaningful, a sharing of thoughts,

More than just not being alone

With yourself.

Without an escape from loneliness.

It’s a form of words like cards, stacked one upon another over time.

So easily jarred, a callus word tumbles the delicate process of relationship.

And in relationship, it’s not good to keep words jarred,

Kept in reserve for some later date until best served.  

And form the spearhead of attack

so words like war kill and scar the ones we say we love.

It’s ‘love’ that maims with best intentions

Or the cut that severs with soft words.

And yes, honesty should be next,

but that isn’t exactly the same as revenge in verbal form, is it?

Only communication,

the commitment not to hurt with the flow

from the noxious fall of the mouth

that drowns our loved ones under its weight.

And so, only show love in the words,

Amend the sins so flippantly housed in habit.