My voice flows through my fingertips, spelling out the words my lips refuse to form.
My soul leaps through lines and paragraphs, dancing on letters in joyous freedom.
My heart lays on these pages, exposed.
You think you have the power to hurt me.
You think you can use my outlet against me.
You think you can form the letters to bring me down.
You are wrong.
I don’t care about you.
I don’t care what you think.
I don’t care what you say.
I don’t care what you do.
This is who I am.
These words are mine.
You have no control over them.
You cannot take them from me.
I will not be bullied into silence.
I will continue to write what I feel. I will continue to express myself fully.
You don’t have to read it.
And as for all your abusive, pathetic comments, I don’t have to let them through.
2 thoughts on “The Words I am Made of Are Mine”
Keep writing, dear one. Keep singing.
It sounds like you do care. But don’t let them stop you. Please.