Nobody special

Words.

Words.

At times they have no meaning,

And at times they are the most important thing in the world.

I despise words.

Despise the way ink meets paper,

Despise how line after line marks itself into existence,

Despise the way words make me feel.

Words have a way of creating worlds unknown,

A distant faraway land called imagination,

A world that is full of trickery and fools,

A world that is filled with words.

 

Words can carry a legacy full of despair,

Or lies filled with honey,

The difference is blurred in my eyes,

They are words all the same.

Yet I never know the right ones to say.