They scatter, these unwanted words
dripping with sarcasm and vitriol.
Tendrils of spite germinate and flourish
entwining whispers and hisses behind hands,
as if the very lowering of voice and timbre
will cloak their malfeasance in honey,
reduce the bone-grazing cut to a mere abrasion.
Secrets are sprinkled with an eye to inflict
damage so deep that recovery requires
strength that Atlas himself would admire
even as he carries the world on his shoulders;
this is as nothing to the downward-looking.
Wounds of word war-craft cannot be seen,
cannot be photographed, do not reveal themselves
as visible evidence in Court No. 1. Yet this abuse too
resonates – and whilst mental scarring also heals
much like a bruise, or a bone broken in anger,
it is carried, leaden, inert, hidden:
hidden, that is
until the point of no return is reached.
This week, on dVerse Poetics, Shanyn has asked us to write as if words are seeds. What an interesting idea, not to mention, imaginative!
I’m not quite sure if I have travelled down the right (weed-strewn) path with this one, however, I was keeping plant life in mind as I wrote and, as you can tell, looked at word-seeds sown that really should be kept to themselves. Whilst weeds, I think, are beautiful plants and flowers growing in a place that we humans did not choose, word-seeds of the nasty sort should never be sown at all! Bullying is wrong, irrespective of whether it is physical or mental.
Please pop over to dVerse to see how others have risen to the word-seed challenge – I will be linking up later!
*Columbine, or aquilegia is actually my favourite flower – how ironic that it is poisonous!