I have so many words in me.

Words are the air in my lungs,

The blood pumping through my veins.

Words are the spark in my eyes,

The strength in my bones.

My words are my tools,

My weapons.

My words are what make me, well

_Me_.

I use my words to teach,

To heal,

To give hope,

To express myself.

All I am is my words.

How come I’m out of words?

How could I have run out of words,

How can I be _silent?_

When words are all I have left?

I’ve pushed almost everyone away.

All my friends, my family.

I don’t trust myself.

I can’t be around other people,

I hurt them.

With my words, me.

My words are hurting them-

_I_ am hurting them.

So how could my words have left me now,

When I need them the most?

How can words explain to a

Wonderful, kind, beautiful girl

That you don’t love her anymore?

How can words heal weeks

Of not texting, not reaching out as

As you let friendships slip away?

How can words tell a mother

Who did everything right

That you don’t want to live anymore?

All I am is my words,

And even they have left me.

Without my words,

I am _nothing_.

If I don’t even have my words,

What do I have left of myself?