Words Are Key

You always knew just The right things to say I was the gatekeeper And you were the locksmith. You caressed me With sound and syllable, You picked out words Like a chef plucks Spices from a cabinet, You crafted sentences How a composer Pours his soul Into a symphony. Your mouth a paintbrush, You painted me beautiful. And how I hoped That those words were Fresh on your tongue Like clean linens, Like that first step In fresh snow Unrehearsed, Unheard by anyone Before me. Oh, how I fell for it. How I clung To the corners of your mouth Longing for the next Vowel, consonant, Word, promise. How I so wanted To be your exception. You stood before me Armored with a crowbar That I naively Mistook for a key. You opened me up When my gates Were layered in stone, You weathered me Into a diamond With the force of Your voice Rushing, smoothing over my edges. But at the end Of the crescendo, when your voice grew tired When you told me You can no longer speak with just those Right words You turned me into coal, No gates, unprotected, Falling into The creases of your novels, A page to be turned, To be forgotten, Sentenced to a place Where words become silence. Though I may be coal to you, Coal is more Valuable than diamond Coal burns with warmth, Provides life While a diamond merely glimmers Usless Pretty It may last But coal, It cant be reburned. It sets ablaze once for a moment. You only have The time when it burns To appreciate it's worth.