in the hospital

the beautiful words we once created so we could talk...well now we're lining them up inside our hearts because we feel so alone. The point of the words was communication, wasn't it? but who's using them to speak anymore.
We're using them to complain,
to cry.
To explain just how alone we feel,
when really, just outside...

I mean, they really are a beautiful thing, words. In themselves, a coded poet lying inside our worded thoughts.
Animals, do they have them?
Does the sky?

But we're greedy, and as easy as it is to say hello, to say goodbye...
we're greedy and we're silent, and we abuse our creations.
There's so much beauty in our words,
but could there be more in the silence?