Words

Your words are powerful.

I choose to believe
the ones that broke me

because every other word
was a feeble attempt to
make the others right and
they don’t have the strength
you may have wanted them to.

Every beautiful word
you spoke in my direction
falls silently upon me.

Bullied into submission.
Drowned out by lies.

If I could change anything
about the way you look at me
and the way that we talk
to each other now

I would believe what you say.
But that will never happen again.

Your words are powerful.
But they broke me
so long ago.
~9/29/15
_____
I started this poem last week and finally finished it this morning because I had to write something. Going through a bit of a rough patch right now. It’s funny because people always ask if I write poetry to help express my emotions better, or as some form of release, etc. And I just smile sadly and say “I wish it helped even a little. I write because I can’t not write. That’s all.”

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