There are more than a million combinations of letters that can form words and no matter which combination I use, nothing is known in regards to what I mean to say. There is an issue present, the loss of innocence, the loss of a loved one, the loss of understanding amongst individuals, and yes, this is simply one issue with many subcomponents. All that happens piles onto another thing, reactions and repercussions for our actions are simultaneously occurring and we are simply quietly alone trying to speak. Everyone else listens, but someone doesn’t understand and the speaker moves on to tell a new story. All that our mouths now are, are simply closed closets with secret sayings that were missed as if they were articles of clothing falling to the floor. Our words are our fashion and we adorn ourselves with them for understanding, but the minute bugs are eating away at those important articles of clothing and we do not notice simply because we are too busy with new words that are on the tip of our tongues—on the hangers and ready to fall. We try to catch it all, but our arms can only hold so much, until our minds break and we close all doors to hide the messes within. You pass your closed closet and inside there are rose vines prickling everything you ever said. Eventually once you mistakenly open that door again and try on a shirt, the vines will come onto you and bleed you dry. Your mind then will be an entangled abyss of disastrous words.