Words Are (Not) Weapons
An Anthology of Hurting My Own Feelings
Words are weapons
This is a thing that everybody knows
And I’ll blame you
As I deal myself blows.
I think to myself
How could you?
As I pick up your hands,
And beat myself blue.
You never mean to hurt me
As you speak so softly
But I’m a masochist
And all words are costly.
Little iron filings fall from your lips
I’ll think you’re just like the rest
As I bend them into knives
And push them into my own chest.
And it’s not fair
For me to do this and blame you
But this is who I am,
There’s nothing I can do.
I’m bleeding and crying,
I’m asking you why.
But you don’t have an answer
But I still see you try.
And that there is the moment,
When it all comes together
You’re not like the rest of them
You’re something much better.
So I sit up and touch you
With love not my sorrow
And I see what I’ve been missing
All the things I must outgrow.
I shouldn’t have hurt me,
Using words of love that you’ve spoken
I’m learning now slowly,
That I can fix what’s been broken.
I’m begging your patience.
I’m crying your pardon
Your words are not weapons
They’re seeds in this garden.
About the Creator
Paige Graffunder
Paige is a published author and a cannabis industry professional in Seattle. She is also a contributor to several local publications around the city, focused on interpersonal interactions, poetry, and social commentary.
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