Words

Whispers and cries.
Ropes and ties.
Scoffs and scorns.
Spikes and horns.

All the pain you inflict,
Every edge you have nicked.
You act as if you have no heart,
But I must say this is your true art.

Your lips continue to move.
A faulse case you try to prove.
A deadly scythe for a tongue.
All this gossip that has stung.

Your words are weapons,
They have cruel intentions.
In their eyes you've left tears,
All because you can't face your fears.

• Crystal L. Swarts