“At one magical instant in your early childhood, the page of a book—that string of confused, alien ciphers—shivered into meaning. Words spoke to you, gave up their secrets; at that moment, whole universes opened. You became, irrevocably, a reader.” –Alberto Manguel

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Thursday, January 14, 2016


“Tell me –where the words touched you, wounded you and gave you scars that will never fade away. Show me every inch of the patch where words stabbed you to the bone, hidden under that skin. But most importantly, I want to know about that hollow spot where the damage was infinite and irrevocable. Maybe there is not a single word that could describe the damage the other words have done to you, maybe you will always be lost for words when you will be talking about words, and that is when you will realize that words are not only something that comes out of your mouth or flows out of the ink –it is something that creates life of its own and lives forever. Maybe someday when you will realize it has faded away and you’ll be curled up warm in bed, it will lurk from the past and scare you and you will be staring at those empty ceilings –sleepless and devoid of comfort. Maybe it will stab you again; right in the middle of your chest where all that dampness of sorrow resides –you will realize you were never over it, it was just like you had a cup of Novocain and now it doesn’t work anymore. That time you will know what a word can do. Words hurt and irony is you don’t find the words to describe it, so you name it after the people who gave it to you and that is why there’s no remedy for it.”

They say you’ll be alright;
know you want to believe,
and you hear them talk;
know you want to leave.

Fail to understand game of words;
all about the truth and lies,
silence is comforting but;
what a promise signifies?

They sell you words again;
can’t see the hole carved deep,
words hurt and words heal;
sometimes, aches even in the sleep.

Wish words were like smoke;
so you never have to have them again,
but they stay too long and deep;
nothing can refrain.

Of what’s already said;
sticks like arrows into your heart,
words kill you but flesh remains;
only words bleed when you depart.

They sell you words again;
words they can’t keep,
words hurt and words heal;
sometimes, aches even in the sleep.

© Shreya ♥

P.S. My creation, please do not copy | Copyright © Protected | Image: Google