A Word to the Wise

Your words are venom–

The kind of venom that gets beneath the skin and spreads like a bug bite.

A bee sting.

The kind of feeling you get from someone repeatedly pricking every inch of your skin with a fine needle–

You’re bearable, but miserable.

Your skin is corroding beneath the negativity lining subtle words,

Bringing death closer than it was before,

And deepening the creases you thought were signs of age–

And time,

But I realized you words were laced with experience.

Times when you had to fight beneath your skin while you listened

To adults tell you how to live and how to be.

I realized you didn’t have much of a chance to be yourself,

Because you had responsibilities and weights that brought you to your knees.

Your words aren’t venom,

They are burning because you didn’t allow yourself to cry

Over the loss.

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