Words

My words sound better coming from my hands -

They fly
They soar
They sing
They dance

And they glide

They're beautiful, when told by my hands    

But told by my mouth

They're grotesque -

They fall

They fail

They hurt

They slip

And they die

So reading what I say

You may think you know me

You may think I'm

Deep

Wise

Understanding

Magical 

Beautiful . . .

And listening to what I say

You may think you know me

You may think I'm

Blunt

Babbling

Unsympathetic

Pessimistic

Grotesque . . .                                 

In reality I am neither of these people

And also both -

Deep and blunt

Wise and babbling

Understanding and unsympathetic

Magical and pessimistic

And beautifully grotesque

I fly and I fall

I soar and I fail

I sing and I hurt

I dance and I slip

I glide and I die

None of this is literal

This literature I'm writing

And to you

I may sound quite inviting

For you are hearing this all from my hands

And, well, the first line I wrote here still stands