Words

things that are said
can’t be un-said
they cut deep and sleek
like a scalpel through the meat

they sear inside,
causing throbbing pain, while
we try to quiet our mind
through a willpower of constraint

things that are heard
can’t be un-heard
they linger in our brain,
layer upon layer of silent rain

reminding that ignorance is
bliss, as our thoughts
travel, to the vast
fields of the abyss

yet deep within,
we know and can’t un-know

when one uses words as a deterrent
they leave marks on the soul, like a
tyrant on a death row
depriving us of being whole

they take a piece of us,
each time the scalpel sharpens, until
there’s nothing left aside from sus, as
our faith in people darkens

it hurts the most when the blow is
handed by the people we know
there’s no answer or textbook to give, after all
only the best of us forgive, while
the rest hide the pain, deep inside
alike mute perpetual chain

***

things that are said
can’t be un-said,
things that are heard
can’t be un-heard,
‘cos deep within
we know and can’t un-know