Out of Control

My words don’t listen to me any longer
They are out of my control.

One little fellow decides
To climb up your window
And knock on the glass.

I whisper to him,
My brow furrowed
Come back!

And then there are others.
They wriggle through your phone
Crawl into your emails
And ambush you on air.

Come back— I reprimand them,
Now, a little angrily.
But they are persistent.

Can’t you see he doesn’t like you?
Leave him alone— I beseech.

But we want to know why.
Why does he allow other words near him
Why not us?

Sarcasm is allowed—
Hate is given a free passage.
Ego has a valid permit.
Why only us?
Why is the door shut to love?
Why are we offensive?

I don’t have the answers
I tell them wearily.

But they have a life of their own—
These words.
They don’t listen to me any more.

Anshu, 1 June 2016