Words

Words, erased, forgotten
That make one feel so rotten
That make one thin, emaciated
That keep one in a prison, and sedated
That sow the seed of great disdain
That make the good deeds seem to have been done in vain
These words induced such horror, fear
Uttered by the mouths that used to be so dear
They echo endlessly into the night
Long time ago they seemed so right 
And pure, and loving, sweet
While writhing down at their dirty feet
Into the mud of the eternal shame
Into the mud, exhausted and enchained
These words tattooed onto my skin
My body like wasteland, like a bin
It takes and takes, but there are more
So many more of them in store
I dared open the black box
The box with way too many locks
I managed to connect the dots
Now I can clear my thoughts
And my tattoos will one day disappear
And be just scars of memories I once so feared
One day they will be only words
It will be gone, the hurt

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