Thursday, January 27, 2011

UNDOING YOUR WORDS

You see the thing is
the only thing you know how to do
is drive your words like a nail into my skin
yes, you drill til it grinds bone and grates teeth
Is this the only thing you know how to do?

With ease, your words slice down trees,
slam doors, shooting down the smile of a child,
with an archer's perfect accuracy

Your mouth is full of ammunition
who would think such a pretty face
has so much war in her mouth?
I used to hide behind an icy muted
shield of numbness, but I'm no longer
needing this old armor you've helped
me build against you.  Maybe we can draw
a truce, maybe you can put down your weapons.

If I had a wish tonight, instead of you telling me
"I know best..." only to continue
with you telling me what it is I need to do, who you
think I should be, and why I should be a mini-version
of you, I know it's 27 years overdue, but my wish would
be that you'd finally start to ask me...
"why..."  "how come..." 
"what do you think..." 
"who are you..."

I wish you would undeafen your ears
to hear who I really am, wish you would start
seeing me not through yourself but as I am, realize
finally that I am my own person, would that hurt so much?

I wish you'd run dry of  your clever, hurtful ways of crafting
words into weapons, because your words are just like
your hands- thick and abrasive.  Because they are just like
your touch- heavy and hard, without grace- and like hands
they have done their damage.  And your daughter is left standing,
in the debris that your words have conceived.
Do you really know best? now?
After all these years I am left with the task of undoing your words. 
After all these years I am left with the task of replacing those words.
If I had a wish. If I had one wish.