I can’t breathe in this ocean of words,
All I inhale is a loathsome curse.
Which sparks the chaos in my heart,
Tearing me down to my littlest of parts.
These words are sores inside my body,
That bleed in a way no one can see.
While I try so hard to heal the pain,
People are here to scratch them time and again.
These words are neither heard nor spoken,
For untold promises cause the most destruction.
Maybe I listen too much to ever be consoled,
And that’s why I’ll always pretend to be bold.
To conceal is a brave summit to conquer. To reveal, stands equally heightened. This poem here reminds me of an excerpt from this extremely moving book, Wonder, by R.J. Palacio :
“Whenever given the choice between being right and being kind, choose kind.”