Words

Words.

I hate them so much.

What I should have said, or shouldn't.

What I did say, or didn't.

They cut like a knife...

That they do.

Are mightier than the sword...

That's cliche, and depends on who's swinging the sword.

But they can hurt.

Or heal.

Bring joy.

Or sadness.

They allow expression in it's purest form.

From the mind to paper.

Without fear of speaking or shyness.

I fancy myself good with words.

They are my strength amidst all of my weaknesses.

But, even the best written, the best intended words, can't fix everything.

A fuck up is a fuck up...

A betrayal is forever.

And actions are always louder.

Sometimes words just aren't enough to repair a lie.

No matter how hard I try...

To craft the perfect phrase...

I can't make you believe I'm sorry.

There aren't enough words in the dictionary to express it.

God, I hate them so much.