Beautiful

What a beautiful time to be alive
Where our words,
They are held to the highest degree.
So many interpretations.
I start to feel like a Bible.
But instead of being admired,
I am being criticized.
Words are sticky.
No matter how hard I try,
The glue is much too strong.
Your words become my skin.
And at night,
In the silence,
I read them.
Until I cannot stand to see them.
And that is when I will pull out the knife.
Desperate to remove them.
So desperate I forget that,
It is such a beautiful time to be alive.