Wounding White Words – Poem

Your white words wound me,
Stabbing in through my gut,
And out from my eyes,
Spewing outward: iron, salt,
And protection at your idling,
The inane chatter,
Gaggles of gossip,
Falling on innocent ears,
That strive to be deaf,
Hiding from the real world,
For good or for bad,
Until your chatter hits,
Like stones and swords,
Leaving me bruised,
I will not be beaten,
Down any more,
Clawing my way back up,
Until my nails are gone,
Destroyed by perseverance,
As I make my way up,
To the surface level of normal,
Where the golden rays shine,
Drying up the salt,
Forging new iron,
Rebuilding the protection,
The armour of a smile,
That will not fade from words,
Or the fortune of the others.

© Persephone M 25/4/12

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