“I can’t take back the words I never said.”

Let’s discuss the importance of words shall we?

The effects they have on people, emotions, situations.

Poetry. 

I cried last night trying to explain to a friend how hard it is to pour your truth out trying to explain, reach out somehow, for some kind of comfort, and getting nothing but “That’s beautiful”s in return. 

I read Warsan Shire’s poetry, see Alysia Harris cry constantly on stage and know they must feel the loneliness I feel sometimes. Because it honestly isn’t about teaching all the time. Sometimes you want to know that someone shares the same kind of passion, pain or indifference that you do. And I guess maybe they can but they can’t express it how you do.

 

Let’s think about how sometimes, words are useless.  You can talk yourself blue, use every language you know and still not get someone to understand you. Not be able to make the Love stay and not be able to show someone what you want them to see. 

My ex taught me that. It was a hard lesson to learn.

It made me wonder what the point was, if you can communicate and not be felt. I didn’t write for a while. I didn’t even speak anything that made sense for a while. He asked me why all I did was quote rap lyrics lately when he knew I had more to me than that and I was unable to  tell him that I was afraid that what I said wouldn’t matter.

 

“Speak your mind, even if your voice  shakes.” – Maggie Kuhn

I read that a year or more ago and my first thought was. “I can’t tell my father how I really feel though..I can’t tell my mother what I want to do. I simply can’t.” And I remembered, they’re just words.

I have since then. 

And being vocal will mean losing many people, I’ll tell you now.

Men get scared when you constantly tell them your truth and cry when you want to.

Friends don’t always want honesty.

Parents may think you’re crazy.

If you think being a writer is lonely, being honest is even worse. 

And I can’t decide yet whether it’s worth it but I can tell you my heart feels the strain of words that fall on deaf ears as much as it felt the weight of unsaid words and I don’t know what’s better/worse but I DO know I can’t go back to being silent. 

The same way you can’t unfeel heartbreak, you can’t unthink a thought, you simply can’t go back to being mute when you find that you have a voice.

I love the word “No” and I use it often. Some days it’s said lower than I’d like because I say it with fear in my heart, but I say it nonetheless and try to make the look in my eye mean it.

Every time I say it I know I should be ready to defend it/myself. Either verbally or if need arises, physically. And it’s new. Because at first, as a woman, a daughter, a girlfriend, a sister, a friend, I didn’t know I could, I didn’t know I had the right to, Women are taught to be selfless, but now as all of these things, I realize I am all I have and not everyone,  in fact, very few people, actually care about what becomes of Me, it’s about what they can get. This too has been a hard lesson to learn and I’m still going through the Test phase. I may be failing a little.

“Your silence will not protect you.” -Audre Lorde

Deception.  I am naive when it comes to those I love.  I don’t believe that they lie to me and when I care, rose coloured glasses are a part of my everyday attire. So I probably walk right into situations because I am not always on guard and I believe I don’t have to live that way. I don’t want to. I think I may have to grow up and be a cynic but I still want the beauty and honesty. 

I am becoming one of those people who speak without the help of liquor. It scares people when they are sober. Weirdly enough, I express myself, but never bond. People know the stories but not what the protagonist feels and has felt.  

I listen to Etta James, Ray Charles, Sam Cooke and think “If I said things so plainly right now, he’d run” and wish I could have lived then. Back when we could frankly speak about our devotion, our adoration for another being, our pain, without needing to make it look pretty. I wish we could still be blunt and it wouldn’t be too crude for people to handle. 

I was listening to the Miseducation of Lauryn Hill last night and as Ex Factor, When it hurts so Bad and I used to love him drifted out through the speakers I thought “This is all that needed to be said and it was. We loved it because it was simple and honest, pure, and yet we can never simply say that’s what it was.”.

 

I’m nostalgic for a time where honesty in Love, in Life, was the norm. And I’ve never even known such a time. 

Now is the time when you’re a part of the minority if you don’t keep people at arm’s length. A time when you’re odd if you feel, and think.

A time when you’re the odd one out if you still cry and show that you’re alive. 

And I’m not dealing well with that. 

“This is crazy.” – Lauryn Hill

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2 comments

  1. You may hear this every day. You may not. You may think me creepy or odd. You may not. You may find what I have to say corny. You may not. I’ll say it anyway: You write the words I’m regularly afraid to let out of my head. I’ve only read 2 posts but I can say that much already. Thanks.

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