... but words are all I have, to take your heart away.
That is always how I considered myself to be. Words are all I have. They are my envoys, my messengers, the speakers of my love and hate, the stone and brick walls that shield me, the house that shelters me, the hands I caress and hurt with. If not spoken, then written, if not written; thought. And now I don't even have words. It's only lies.
Exaggeration? Possibly. I simply mean I haven't yet found words that speak true about him and so there must be silence.
No comments:
Post a Comment