Words...

Have you ever run into times where you don't know what to say? You just sit there and wonder what the perfect words are for the situation and nothing comes to you. And then when the words do come, the moment has already passed and you're left sitting there staring off into space with the words sitting on your tongue. Or maybe nothing comes for so long and you look back and continue to play that conversation in your head over and over again still searching for those perfect words. I don't particularly know where this rant came from by I found this amazing poem that I think expresses that wonderfulness yet bitterness of words.


“Words”
by Anne Sexton

Be careful of words,
even the miraculous ones.
For the miraculous we do our best,
sometimes they swarm like insects
and leave not a sting but a kiss.
They can be as good as fingers.
They can be as trusty as the rock
you stick your bottom on.
But they can be both daisies and bruises.
Yet I am in love with words.
They are doves falling out of the ceiling.
They are six holy oranges sitting in my lap.
They are the trees, the legs of summer,
and the sun, its passionate face.
Yet often they fail me.
I have so much I want to say,
so many stories, images, proverbs, etc.
But the words aren’t good enough,
the wrong ones kiss me.
Sometimes I fly like an eagle
but with the wings of a wren.
But I try to take care
and be gentle to them.
Words and eggs must be handled with care.
Once broken they are impossible
things to repair.