Qentrice

Whispers.

How can it be so quiet, but so loud?
So simple, but so harsh?
How can such silence hold so much pain?

Words that are used everyday,
Put together, and cut through our flesh,
Like a knife through butter, with ease,

We bow our heads,
Our minds going insane,
Following each demand,
Bleeding with each cut,
Screaming with each thought,
Pleading with each strike,
Memorizing everything,
Each word and thought,
Each tear and cause,

Because we live in misery,
Because we live in fear,
Of each word,
Of each dagger that the silent whispers hold,

\"Because their not just whispers,\"
\"They have words that are as sharp as swords,\"

\"And we\'re frightened.\"