Words

My words are the fruit of my labor. They are the pride of my intelligence. My words are my expression to those near or far. They are my method of release… How I release my emotions. With anything I write I hold it to a standard to reach someone. And not just anyone, to someone…with specification.
But what do my words mean to you?
When I pour out my heart through my creative choice, do you see more than mere characters on a screen?
Do u take a thing I say seriously?
I talk on pages and screens, but I receive no response. I ask questions, try to get to the root of your story but I never obtain the plot.
I’m left with words that are empty because to you they hold no meaning. No matter how much they mean to me, to you they hold no meaning.
So as I anticipate the reception of my heart I am left disappointed. And I am left hurting because the very thing I have to give you life, doesn’t seem to give you any at all. The very thing I have to give you life, doesn’t seem to give you any at all. That rips me to shreds. It breaks me. But I keep trying to make my words make a difference, as they bounce of walls and shatter on the ground.

2 thoughts on “Words

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