words 2

i write. and yet i degrade words?

are they not..this?

 

 

 

 

this?

 

 

 

 

 

and this and this and this?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

are they not everything and nothing, as are we? so why do i let words shrink the imagined “I”; why does my ego bruise so readily at the sound and unsound of words?

 

 

 

 I feel, somehow that there are…

 

 

 

words that dumb me-i had a moment today, as can happen (and does more often than i would care to admit), where words hurt me and made me feel small; the presence of words arranged in such a beautiful and intelligent way that i looked at my own combinations and ideas and thought, “how terribly simple you sound. graceless! you’re still nothing but that average christian girl in the prairies. an unremarkable. look at how she strung those sounds together. clear, poetic. all that you write is vague. allusions to this or that, but like tepid water, there is little warmth that would make someone want to linger in and over you. she is a symphony, and you are drip drip drip.”and the back of my eyes sting, the optical nerves tingle in their salty bath.

words that numb me-i am never quite sure if i prefer withheld words or the blunt force trauma of uncensored truth bombs being dropped into my ear tubes. either or, i am left feeling frozen and uncertain. to be ignored. who is being the most ignorant in the situation? the fool who persists on pursuing responsive words or the one withholding? i feel bound, unable to let fate take its course. let it thaw into a fresh water rush of words from new sources.

words that thumb me-there are words that leave me out of the club, that thumb their noses at me and let me know, “you don’t belong with us. you aren’t a part, so you must stay apart from.” when they are uttered or written, they profess, “this is who i am and what i stand for. and this person and that person use those same words, so together we go to the same places, from whence we came. we grew up together in these words or we adopted them long ago to belong. we wear them like brand name yoga pants so everyone will know we are lululemon united. words that  keep me at bay, let me know that there is no more room at the inn. the circle of clique is complete. i may be able to sneak in a side door, but significant effort must be made to blend, to parrot, to ape the dominant apes of the tribe; bow down to the holy and the cool, the charismatic and the good-looking and sexy words that flow like chocolate fountains.

words that mum me-and then there are the words that want to leak out, but are told to be good little girls. the neither seen nor heards, nor spoken evils. these are words that leave others in intestinal twists. wordless, uncomfortable. disbelieving, disgusted. angry, alone. looking into the darkness that no one can see their way through. so it is better to stop up the ears and heart valves, wax nostalgic about innocence that exists only as a mask. i keep secrets badly, sometimes. but even when i say them, i never really tell.

words that hum me-and then there is the release. wave after wave, up and out into the air. they are the breeze, they are the song, they are the one and only word. word. words are unhinged hums, undone braids that wildly tumble and climb up up and away into perfect atmosphere. they know no such thing as us vs. them, lie or truth. they have never met a secret or unloved anyone for their hiding or seeking. these words do not see popular, they do not form in’s against out’s. these words are language and are not language simultaneously. they reverberate like wind chimes. they are mind. love. the alpha, the omega. the end in the beginning. om.