Who Are You

Blood bubbles and boils
With rage
Words used to dig
Are words used to break

How can your tool
of words hold conviction
be so bold
and yet benine

Experience is held in thoughts
and nothing in solid form
and you point the crooked finger
As if I am a bubbling idiot

You look into my fish tank
of a world
But you can't see
because your eyes are clouded

When you see clearly,
then let the wisdom flow
When you have lines of proof
then show me the path

Without these
Your words are benine
and have no affect on me
becoming who I am