Words
The world is constantly changing
always unstable. everywhere I look there is violence, a child dying.
A family torn apart.
I live in a time when children are killed for going to school.
I live in a time where women are simply women
and nothing more.
Underneath it all: the violence, the prejudice, and the problems,
we are left with one thing.
Words.
Spoken words, thought of words, or written words.
No matter the language, no matter the native tongue
we have words.
Words,
express what cannot be heard.
Words,
tell the story of the child who is too afraid.
Afraid of yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
Words,
speak for the woman who
does not speak,
instead she writes.
Instead I write.
I am too afraid to speak, too afraid to be heard,
too afraid of rejection
too quiet to be heard.
I turn to writing, it becomes my refugee.
I have found words are more forgivng than people
more welcoming and more loving.
Words tell me where I was, how I am, and where I hope to be.
I write for the beauty, the simplicity, the freedoom.
I write for the words.
I write for me.
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