Words are very powerful. Mine, yours, everyone's.
The sickness within
The rotting, decaying sickness within
Guilt
Self-hatred, even self-loathing
eats me from the inside out
My lungs collapse
My intestines shrivel
My liver bursts
My heart erupts
then ceases
All because I took your words
And made them my own
Believed them
Turned them into a religion
Tired of the prayer rugs
the wine and the wafers
Do I need a new language
to survive this world?
Sticks and stones
Sticks and stones
June 19, 2007
© 2007 Anne Westlund
Poetry by Anne Westlund
Read 691 times
Written on 2007-07-08 at 02:19
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Words Will Never Hurt Me
The sickness within
The rotting, decaying sickness within
Guilt
Self-hatred, even self-loathing
eats me from the inside out
My lungs collapse
My intestines shrivel
My liver bursts
My heart erupts
then ceases
All because I took your words
And made them my own
Believed them
Turned them into a religion
Tired of the prayer rugs
the wine and the wafers
Do I need a new language
to survive this world?
Sticks and stones
Sticks and stones
June 19, 2007
© 2007 Anne Westlund
Poetry by Anne Westlund
Read 691 times
Written on 2007-07-08 at 02:19
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
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