my words

The words that I use sometimes tend to be nothing.  They turn out to be something when they hit the pages from my mind.  I can change them to fit into certain patterns.  I will evoke emotion in tender silence and perfect pleasure. Who knew that I could be this person in a moment with you.  Surely I did not miss that about myself, I did not know it was there to start with. Slow the tide that binds the letters, slow the sounds that follow your lips.  Who knew I could be this perfect in a word written on paper.  There is times when I yearn for expression, they tend to walk slowly by.  How does time go by when a clock only has arms, they say?

There were moments when I could hear my own voice, it was trapped in my mind.  Crazy letters form in handwriting that was never mine.  Pages dripped with blood from my soul and it killed my hands to feel its beauty, so that blood can be for life and not for hate.

I will hear my words when the morning comes, I will cry my tears for days gone by.  I will never be sorry for my own pain and I will never say sorry for where I have been.  Stronger are my words now, perfect are their creation.  I am thankful for what I can say, in my mind, in my word, written on paper for the world to see.

~ by etainlavena on February 29, 2008.