Words Are What We Do

When I am feeling in need of

hurting others

because they have hurt me

or I am frustrated

or when I am feeling, even worse

like hurting myself,

I am learning that

the only thing

to do

is to do

words

 

When I start to fantasize

about bullseyes painted clearly on trees

and dancing knife blades

edging me out of the bleakness that submerges me

the depression that chokes me

like fathom after fathom of ocean water

 

I, instead, wield words as weapons

as armor and shield,

I take that blackness,

that desert of despair,

and heave words into it

their sharp edges cutting the inky night into shreds

until finally some light enters in.

 

When the demons of depression

start to whisper in my ear,

sniggering about shame and guilt and

how I’m not enough… tossing out “shoulds” like

goddamn confetti,

I put on my highest, sharpest

stilettos, I write myself

into a master ninja who kicks the ever-living shit

out of those liars,

piercing them with those diamond-tipped,

knee-high boot stilettos

until they are the most finely webbed lace

that can’t hold back the sunshine

or me

no matter how strongly made

they once were.

 

I do words

because I will write my own world,

thank you very much,

one which supports and saves me –

one where I save myself,

craft a life for myself,

and I’ll keep doing words

until my

Natural

dying day.

 

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2 thoughts on “Words Are What We Do

  1. I love the imagery you’ve used and played with Jen – the idea of the shoes – high heeled and dangerous – how they are donned and used as a weapon – empowering yourself to kick the crap out of the demons that taunt and would drag you down – and how you choose to empower and fight back as a ninja – oh so classy in those diamond tipped boots ….. and the imagery of kicking the crap out of the blackness until it becomes a most elegant web that allows the light in – and can’t hold you back? Stellar!

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