If Words Could KillA Poem by BeccaCA short story / poem on the power that words have over another human being.Whoever said that words can’t hurt never cared about anything, and surely never loved anyone. Whoever said words don’t cut, don’t stab, don’t wound as viciously as a freshly sharpened knife has never fought a war using grammar as the weapon of choice. There is no better way to emotionally traumatize than to use names, threats and commands; each has the capacity to pave the way toward an eternity of perpetual fear and sorrow. Words are free, promised to us by the constitution; they are always just a trigger away from dismantling anyone or anything. With a pocket full of salient secrets entrusted to you, the power you hold in just one hand can eradicate any chance at a judgment free existence. Have a message to send? We write our words in blood, please sign at the bottom so we can ensure their fresh delivery. Whoever said that silence is a resolution or a fix to a conflict has never been ignored before. Whoever told you that it’s never wrong to walk away was never abandoned or rejected, thrown out like trash. And I can guarantee that anyone who has ever used a semicolon as the punctuation of choice has pondered whether or not the time has come to end it all. The ending of a conversation, an emptiness of the soul, the period is the universal and unequivocal sign that nothing is left and everything has turned to ash. An exclamation point of anger, the semi-colon of separation or the question mark of debate; all of these lead us to agonize over whether or not we said what we wanted to say. Have a message to send? We use our silence as if it were blood, the kind that pools until it starts to leak, and when its limit is reached it begins to overflow. You wake up to another battle with the syntax of life, but this time he is smarter, he is waiting for the right moment, for the most fragile of circumstances, for an attack that will take every piece of life she has left in her. This guy’s not looking to injure, he’s out to kill. Your purchase is guaranteed. Who told us that hearts don’t bleed? That words don’t break spirits? That silence can’t torture a soul, and mutilate trust? Silence speaks volumes, and what many people fail to realize is that the outcome of our lives can be severed by it, decided by it, forever. All I know is that my heart hurts more than any broken bone ever has. Words have scarred quicker and more aggressively than cuts, scrapes and stitches combined. Words are the opposing nature of each form of torment; external and physical wounds are the easiest because our biological makeup knows how to heal a bruise or a broken leg. Ice reduces inflammation. Ibuprofen relieves pain. The cuts disappear and fade away, and if you’re lucky you won’t even remember. Hearts don’t hurt, they break; a little at a time, one incident after another until finally it’s not strong enough. It becomes empty of love and void of all hope. Have a message to send? “Oh one of those? Yes, of course. We even offer free delivery; I just need to know whether you are looking to break her heart, or maim it temporarily?” Please sign on the ‘X’, we take blood and Visa. © 2020 BeccaCReviews
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1 Review Added on July 5, 2020 Last Updated on July 5, 2020 Tags: poetry, writing, grammar, broken hearts, love, anguish, mental illness, torment, heart, poem, shortstory |