someone once told me,
'sticks and stones may break my bones,
but words will never hurt me'.
is that true?
is it?
if it is,
why are your words like fists
punching me over and over
till I succumb to my painful fate
that lay in your hands?
why are your words like a knife
plunged into my heart
till my soul has left me
leaving me helpless, vulnerable, dead?
why are your words like glass shards
that is dragged over my arm
again and again, over and over
till all I see is a sea of red?
your words
left dents in my confidence
cuts on my skin
bruises on my soul
tears on my face
your words
shattered my heart to pieces
leaving me to pick them up myself
hurting myself with the glass shards
in the process
your words
left me completely broken
as if I were a porcelain doll
once broken, never the same again
'stick and stones may break my bones,
but words will never hurt me,'
is that true?
or is it another lie
to keep me in denial
of the broken state I'm in?
YOU ARE READING
Fragments of A Soul
Poetry'I'm no longer a whole; just fragments of a soul. My life is no longer red or yellow or blue; all that's left is a greyish hue. But, my soul will be whole once again and my life will be filled with sunshine and rain. Till then, words will be my esc...
