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Weapon of Words
April 1, 2015
I wish I were deaf.
I wish I couldn’t hear their words.
For words cut like a knife.
They burn till I'm dust.
I wish I couldn’t hear their words.
Each one a scar.
They burn till I'm dust.
Killing me from the inside, out.
Each one a scar.
Lonely in a crowd.
Killing me from the inside, out.
Sew shut their lips.
Lonely in a crowd.
For words cut like a knife.
Sew shut their lips.
I wish I were deaf.
© Michelle K., Vancouver, WA
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