These Words

In the crevices
Of formal communique
Lurks
A deep despair
A lonely lament
These words
We use
Shelter us.
We hide behind
These words.
Syllabic melancholy
We have so much
To say
Yet,
These words
Are a barricade
Fallacious
Fictitious
Inside these words;
False idols.
Outside these words;
Buried intentions.
Below these words;
Hollowed hope.
Above these words;
Spared emotion.
These words
Can be plastic
Can be cruel
Because NO true meaning
Is to be found
In this formal communique
Though veracity
May leak
Perhaps,
Seep
From the corners
Of inflection
Though veracity
May emanate
Perhaps,
Vibrate
From the chords
Of tone
Siphoning through
Excessive verbiage
Perhaps,
A shred of truth
Can be found.
That molecule
Of connection
Is a shimmering jewel
In this hell
Of plasticity
We must grasp
With all fortitude
To this shred
Of truth.
Perhaps, then
These words
Will not have been
Wasted Sound.
Perhaps, then
These words
Will save us
Collective.