"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."

We've all heard it, we've all said it, and we've all cried despite it. At least broken bones heal stronger and broken skin patches itself up eventually. The marks of words don't simply heal.

Words can be poisoned daggers just as easily as they can be a panacea. They can tear into you, leaving behind an awful residue that will only fester until a cure comes along. It seems like nothing will ease the hurt every day, every minute, every second you can feel festering deep inside.

Words can reach deep into the wound and drag out the infection. It will hurt for a moment but the deeper pain will be gone, allowing the wound to heal in a slow and painful process. For whatever reason that dwells in the sick and twisted human mind, these healing words are so very rare.

They're there. The damaging words will always come repeatedly, tearing down the barriers you built around your heart to keep out the pain. But the healing words will always come. It may be even more painful as they pull down the wall; they pull down the wall so you can see the defenses against the pain put up by your loved ones for you and so you can see the joy in the world.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can always hurt me."