The War On Words
i was taught to speak at an early age, before the thought of growing up was even a concept.
i was taught to speak because maybe, if i’m young enough, they’ll hear me.
if i’m loud enough, they’ll hear me.
if i slam my hands down hard enough to prove a point, maybe i’ll be heard.
i taught myself to write at an early age, because i learned quickly and scarily that sometimes, people don’t care to listen.
i taught myself to write because the words on the paper seemed to hold more vigor,
seemed to shake less and not get caught in my throat,
seemed to be able to speak the words i couldn’t force myself to.
teaching myself to write was like stepping onto a battlefield,
like putting myself in the line of fire but still being unsure if my guns even worked,
if my bullets would even fire,
if the shot would even be heard.
so now, i keep writing.
i load more bullets and clean my guns,
and i always fire with precision.
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