DeaththePuppy

words are strings they tie my tongue and fill my lungs they pull and rip my skin, expose my sin they fly through my mind and lie with a kind smile, my lips pulled up by strings of things that I can't hold in, so they slide from my eyes like strings and ties that hold me up and tell you lies, yes they, they slither from my throat and float away these strings string us along for so long we start believing that those strings are the things that define us that they confine us to tattered shreds and shattered dreams, but what does it matter? such delicate things are more like threads... words are strings