Words are all we have
And your words
are knives
engraving my heart
carving each letter
crimson social intercourse
beat-cut
beat-cut
heart bleeds ink
your words hurt
And words are all we have,
the knives are all we have
but knives are cold flat metal
smooth metal
gentle metal
words can embrace fallen heart
when stroked
across, tingles and
forget-me-not words
But words are all we have
The tools in our hands
whether we draw red lines
or send sweet chills, sensations
depends on how we use them,
these words that we have,
depends on how we hold them
stroke or carve
the words are ours
