Words
I am intoxicated by words
Addicted to the subtleties of language
Forever trying to understand how it's possible
That every book, and
poem, and
thought, and
dream, that I have ever known
Can be described by simple shapes on a page
How do you describe the description?
The melancholy loneliness of absent
The unbridled passion of exuberant
Felicity drips with sugar and a gentle breeze
While rancid oozes betrayal and a bitter aftertaste
And yet sometimes, the meaning will not be what I adore
But the sound
The song of a word lesser used
As it fills the air with its music
Or the familiar hum of a dear old friend
And the comfort that speaking it brings
All of our lives we are singing our words
From our very first cry to our last breath
And every song we will ever run into
Will be different than any before it
Perhaps this is why I find that I crave words
To hear how people have made language their own
I listen to the voices of those who surround me
And find that, slowly
I stop hearing their words
And I start to hear their souls