Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.

I beg to differ.



Sticks and Stones

The memories of a forgotten love hang
thick like humid air on this long summer night.
The angels of quiet mercy could
not save me from the sticky web
of a false promise.
And I do not want them anymore.
Yet they cling like wet fabric to my soul.
The words spoken in a bruised
promise lay in a pyre
like fractured syllables of a broken
love sonnet -
forever lost, forever mistaken for something
that never was and could never be
hidden behind truth that I could never
see because they were like sticks and stones
crushing my heart and breaking my bones.
Never, never, never.
Leave, sweet sorrow, and let me
live.

"Leave, sweet sorrow, and let me
live."

Ahh, but more hurtfully honest and wishful words were never spoken at a time of such emotional distress.

I dug this

That is beautifully written... it bought tears to my eyes

Thank you, ladies.