Words for the White.

Your life is full of words.
Letters tied to each other
then those running along with other words producing sentences,
taking up more minutes of the day
then you talking ever would.

Your movements are influenced by these words.
Your mind speaking through your actions
your thoughts placed on your shoulders,
sitting out proudly for all to see.

You like these words.
They keep to themselves
but scream when the time's right.
They revel the truth
when your brain puts a wall to the madness.

They form more then you could ever imagine.
They protect you from the world,
fighting battles with the 'bad thoughts'
and helping you through the bloody images.

They convince you of a lot.
How the pink lady shaver isn't just for shaving those nasty hairs
and how two months of plain
hopelessness
can be cured with a drink of the bottle.

And you listen.
Because they've never been wrong before.

They end up quieting throughout the day, though.
Just silent
when you've pleaded for them to shine some knowledge.
Only with three can filled liquid in your stomach,
do they show.

They tell you to take some pills with that ill smelling,
but oh so good feeling brown water.
And you do.
Because these 'words',
they've become your best friend.
And you don't want to lose the only one left.

They scream at you five minutes later.
When your body is sleepy and slow.
Heavy
you can't even lift you hands.
But you tell them to shut up
cringe at how loud they get.
They're filling everything
and all you want is to sleep.
You close your eyes,
telling the words you'll handle it in the morning.

But the words are now always absent.
And so are your movements.
You're just floating
in a sea of white.
Hoping one day,
that the words would catch your tide.
And tell you everything will be alright.