Sifting through all the words, trying to find the place I went wrong. Tricky bastards, words. Stack and string them as gifts. Lace them with poison and they become weapons. I sat picking through the spillage and realized how exposed I was, seeing just how quickly you stripped me. It had been so long since I had allowed anyone close enough to see past my smiles, that I didn’t recognize what was happening. Until you were gone again. The soul-deep loneliness that had been eased by you, was choking me, twisting me inside. You asked me for the words and I gave you all of them. Word by word, creating the stories that gave you the key to me. I dumped all of the words, useless and broken into a box. The lock snapped with a click and the box was shoved back into place. Words that can hold such power, are sometimes the most useless things of all….
~Wandersoften