The Depth of Words, in a Broken World

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We knew each other through words. The notes, the thoughts, the feelings spoken out loud. You and I had the verses that could stop time, or so I thought. The harsh reality of the world we live in, a world with no understanding or place for our words ruptured everything we were made of before we could so much as whisper our goodbyes.

Our words raged at the world that fought against us, but they raged separately. Your words became song, and mine recorded themselves in black and white. You let everyone hear you, in the way that you were so terrified to do at first. I was relieved that our words weren’t stolen from us so long ago. But, your words had never softened. Neither had mine. And so, my words spoke to yours once again…

The responses were short and eventually disappeared altogether. I realized that, though our words were our shielded way of managing the years, they served very different purposes. You don’t ever want to think, do you? Your words blanket your mind, disallowing any of the hurt. You crawl into your solitude to blast lyrics so loud that your mind can’t process anything that could possibly break you. You sing to the masses because you refuse to make the sound touch you personally. Because, then…You’d have to feel it all.

Words could never blanket me, nor would I ever desire to live in that state. I need to think. I need someone to give me the soul-piercing truth that leaves me hanging off of the edge and screaming at the top of my lungs. I want the harshest form of reality, and I crave to feel every moment of it. Eyes on me, uncovering the questions I’ve been forced to bury with concrete burden…and discovering every single answer. That will be the moment that my words served purpose—the moment I finally find my closure.

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