Nameless

Words are knives.
They mercilessly slice apart your skin
And deep into the flesh within
In searing agony they carve
Two hundred thousand bloody scars
We carry through our lives.

Words are spears.
They pierce the heart to cut the soul
And in their wake an aching hole
It takes all of your life to seal
The marks they leave that never heal
Frozen dry by tears.

Words are pain.
The kind that grows in cold neglect
Within the heat of rage should we forget
The consequences of our words
of everlasting shame and hurt
Words are not a game.