and the words were spraying thick and fast from the pen
ink pouring endlessly to create and destroy
while liquid crystals dribbled from swollen eyes
bold and undeniable black ink spoke for the mute, transparent drops
the world was spinning much too quickly
the words were spilling much too quietly
They needed to be great letters
to rival in size with buildings and fortresses and palaces
They needed to fight anything that approached
punching with fierce, unyielding bronze fists
They needed to catch fire
and furiously scream and roar at passerby to be seen
They needed to feed off of the flames, prospering in defiance
as malicious lit matches were tossed upon them
They needed to stand up and be
what their creator could not
but they were only small lowercase letters
scrawled hastily in feeble, dying ink
destined to be crumpled into a folder
to be never known and
never heard and
never seen
just like
silent
tears