speechless

Sometimes words fall out senselessly,

no meaning attached.

But because they want to,

not necessarily because

they want to be revealed.

It's as if my pen

has control over me,

writing whatever comes

to its nonexistent mind.

And then suddenly it's blank,

but even the blankness

is turned to words somehow.

Words are such beautiful

things, really.

Similar to thoughts,

how they can appear

in an instant, but be gone

in the blink of an eye.

They can mean

everything

or nothing,

be spoken

or written, and sometimes

the perfect one

doesn't exist,

even when you think

there's one for every situation.

You can fill a page

with complete nonsense

or you can pour

your whole damn heart out onto it

using just words.

A comment, a poem,

a statement, a question.

The power of each

underrated, unpredictable,

but engraved in someone's mind.

Words can never be taken back,

no matter how hard we try.

Words are history,

and words are our future.