mused with mary

Words are both a cut and a bandaid
They are both the flowers and the cost of flowers
Words can be as empty as a church on a Saturday night
Or as full as a bar the night before

Words are the homecoming queen
And the girl who sits at home alone
Words are winds that blow down buildings
And kill people.
Words are open doors at the wrong time
And places you shouldn’t be
And things you shouldn’t see
Words are the heavy tears that stain ivory sheets
Words are things we think.
Words are things people say, that we thought were only trapped between our own ears

Words are differences carefully hidden
Words are stretch marks and crooked teeth
Sometimes they are “We’re letting you go”
Or
“I want a divorce”
Words are the lives forever altered afterwards

If the choice came down to
Electric chair
Or
Honest words
I cannot be certain I’d pick the latter

But

Sometimes words are an embrace
Or coffee creamer
That has been added perfectly to a bitter cup
Sometimes they’re the first cry of a new life
Sometimes they are a drizzly Sunday and hand stitched blankets
And a body
You’re using as a heater
Sometimes they’re fire trucks roaring through traffic
To save a teenage girl from the fire within her mind
Sometimes words are rescue teams that find the loved
And loved the lost
Sometimes words are waking up at 4 when your alarm is set at 5
Words can be “I am in love with you”
Even better
Words can be the truth that is holding onto each syllable as if
If it were to let go, it would drown

Words are a baby’s first cry
And the absence of it
Words are a life lost
And an angel gained
Words are rain during a drought
Words are a hand being reached for
In the darkness of an empty room full of emotion
They are the promise of forever
And the challenges that follow

Words can be both.
They can be beautifully disastrous and hideously comforting.

Good.
Bad.
Words are what we make them.