Publisher's Synopsis
WORDS AND BROKEN BONES
They have a saying about sticks and stones
and words and bones
Something about how they'll always get thrown
but you'll never let them dictate your self-talk; your tone
Your voice booms and occupies the room
leaving no space for my inner child to bloom
Sucking up all the oxygen, leaving none for me to consume
INHALE. 1..2..3 EXHALE... it's you, not me
I've puffed my cheeks
and spit out defeat
eating words so sharp, they cut my teeth
slashed my jaw until it was raw
You may as well have used a saw
Capitalizing on every flaw
using my skin to declare your win
celebrating my hanging chin
How do you heal the wounds you feel
How do you soothe the sores you can't see
all the bruises and bumps on my psyche
so sticks and stones may break my bones, but
it is your words that grind them to dust
