i like words.
i like writing them.
i like putting my thoughts into them.
i like hearing them in songs that talk about me.
i like reading the ones other people have said.
i like thinking that other people like to read mine.
i LOVE building people up with them.
i’d rather write them than speak them, and read them than listen to them.
i’m not always as careful as i should be with them.
i think too much about the ones that other people say to me.
i let myself be affected by them too much(they’re my second love language.)
i write more of them than i speak, and i usually hold them back at all the wrong moments.
i struggle to find them most of the time, but,
i’ve been told i have a way with them.
i have a talent for hurting people with them.
throughout my life, i’ve had my day made, my view of myself destroyed, my life changed, and my heart broken,
all because of words.
compared to them, sticks and stones are like hugs and kisses.
just a thought.
“words are only postage stamps delivering the object for you to unwrap.”-george bernard shaw