I am adult enough to not stay silent when you deal with words so carelessly
this is about children and words,
and by words I mean your words.
I don't often write in rage
because my rage is ugly and it bubbles
like the lemon filling I like to make on Sundays
and when it bubbles, it can easily overflow
then cause a housefire if left unattended.
I am not a parent.
therefore, I am a child.
I am an adult but I am still a child.
what I am is also a poet
and trust me when I say I understand
how powerful words can be and
how that power increases tenfold
when you are the ones who say them
and your children are where your spit lands.
I am a child enough to understand
how calloused words seep into
our very bones and inside?
inside they twist and turn and explode
until they become burn marks
like primitive tattoos in the back of our minds.
sometimes they become sparks of spirit
but some other times,
they become brands that define.
it's like there's a class superlative section
in the school yearbook and our photos are there
over words like: disappointment. embarrassment.
never going to be good enough. a for effort.
laziest kid in the world. waste of space.
well, you get it.
I am also adult enough to lose blind faith
in grown human parents masquerading as adults
because oh, the things you do. the look you give.
the hugs you do not give. the iron grip you have.
and oh, the words you say and how you say them.
where you say them. when you say them.
I am adult enough to stand in front of you
and tell you to your face that you suck at this.
I am adult enough to not stay silent
when you deal with words so carelessly.
think think think think think.