Words of power. Powerful words. The power in words.
I have been rolling these phrases on my tongue for the last few hours. I don’t know where to start. I know firsthand the power behind words; the way they slice my flesh, snake their way under my skin and dig into my heart, festering as though a bullet shattered into a thousand pieces.
So yes, I know the force behind the words. But, if it was words that whispered “You are worthless”, then it was words that took hold of my hand and dragged me through the mud and left me at the shore. I still have bits and pieces of that riverbed stuck in my throat that I spit out just to stop choking on them. So yes, words. I am quite familiar with it dear friend. Perhaps this is why I know what you are trying to say when you sigh “I can’t get out of bed today”. Because that right there is the annoying shrill of the fire alarm in my head. And no matter what I do I can’t fight this for you. Not even my I-will-probably-kill-and-hide-the-body-for-you kind of love will be enough for this fight. And few will learn to accept this struggle of yours as valid and I am sorry for that. I am sorry for the number of times you will hear “it’s just a phase” or “are you crazy” or… no I am going to stop because you don’t need to hear them here. You will never hear them here, never.
I don’t have words for you that could help and it makes me feel so excruciatingly helpless. I don’t have the words, because I am out of them myself. I only have my second-hand crutches to offer you with shaking hands and a note that they are slightly wobbly so take care when you lean on them. And another note in hasty scribbles how you will never be just broken but broken so majestically that you will only ever be a kintsugi, a piece of art because that’s what we all are. Never broken, never a mess that needs to be fixed by someone else. We fix ourselves, we pour that hot, bubbling gold in our veins and muffle our screams. And we are never broken.