Connie Song

Ugly words.
Some call them flagrant,
vagrant
inflammatory words
that somersault and conjugate
around the picket fence

copulate and populate
with no intention of offense

for they catapult quite freely
and are protected
with all civility of intent

and they feed before they desiccate
much to our dismay
they verbalize,
hypnotize,
desensitize,
like clay
while they furnish us with weaponry
and they spare us no expense.

And while sticks and stones
may break our bones,
words can maim and manipulate,
and to further stipulate,
they hold the power
to destroy.

Toxic,
feral words,
for better or for worse.

Why do we spit them out
impulsively
in haste,
before we taste them first?

© Connie Song 2022. All Rights Reserved.

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Creaking bones
kidney stones
sciatic nerves
angry birds
and raspy voices
break the silence.

The west wind howls
and rips the sky into shards of grey.
Charcoal clouds,
like pin cushions
prick the soul
until the rain tumbles down.

Vehement is the fury
of the blistering pain
on the reptilian side of my traumatized brain.
Sometimes, I write for that blast of dopamine.
And most days, that works just fine.

Grace notes: dear readers- have you ever noticed the healing effects of writing thoughts down on paper or onto a screen?

Does the process wrap around your mind and engage you in such a way that it distracts you for at least a little while?

And isn’t it just lovely when a song tangentially comes to mind? Sometimes, I write just to kill the pain.

Youtube Carly Simon recording, Haven’t Got Time for the Pain

© Connie Song 2022. All Rights Reserved.

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Connie Song

Connie Song

They try to tell me that writing is minimally invasive, but I’m sure they’re wrong. Follow me on Twitter@https://twitter.com/ /ConnieSong10/