Words…

wordsWords does not kill,
  It is a soul slowly screaming.
Words scratching away
 At the inside of your skull,
Sharp pains
 Like beady lifeless eyes;
Puncturing you into a hiss of submission.
 The poison is taunting, behind
A familiar reflection—
 (The enemy is inside)
Scrawling out shadows
 Of a wilted realm
Something else dwells within.
If you don’t get it out,
It will slowly eat you alive.
Each day is spent dismantling
Countless thoughts-
Beauty can be a mystery,
 When you exist in ruins

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