Words Are Key
You always knew just
The right things to say
I was the gatekeeper
And you
were the locksmith.
You caressed me
With sound and syllable,
You picked out words
Like a chef plucks
Spices from a cabinet,
You crafted sentences
How a composer
Pours his soul
Into a symphony.
Your mouth a paintbrush,
You painted me beautiful.
And how I hoped
That those words were
Fresh on your tongue
Like clean linens,
Like that first step
In fresh snow
Unrehearsed,
Unheard by anyone
Before me.
Oh, how I fell for it.
How I clung
To the corners of your mouth
Longing for the next
Vowel, consonant,
Word, promise.
How I so wanted
To be your exception.
You stood before me
Armored with a crowbar
That I naively
Mistook for a key.
You opened me up
When my gates
Were layered in stone,
You weathered me
Into a diamond
With the force of
Your voice
Rushing, smoothing
over my edges.
But at the end
Of the crescendo,
when your voice
grew tired
When you told me
You can no longer
speak
with just those
Right words
You turned me
into coal,
No gates, unprotected,
Falling into
The creases of your novels,
A page to be turned,
To be forgotten,
Sentenced to a place
Where words
become silence.
Though I may be
coal to you,
Coal is more
Valuable than diamond
Coal burns with warmth,
Provides life
While a diamond merely glimmers
Usless
Pretty
It may last
But coal,
It cant be reburned.
It sets ablaze once for a moment.
You only have
The time when it burns
To appreciate it's worth.
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