Friday, 24 August 2012

It’s a conspiracy

"Sticks and stones may hurt my bones, but words will never hurt me."
Those are the words she uttered daily, just to convince herself more than anyone else, that your words did not cut straight to her core, breaking way more than her bones,  but her sole. She couldn’t admit it, but it sure hurt like brand new shoes.

Every time u told him he was useless, the more he became what you called out of him. Do you ever wonder why he says he doesn’t know when you ask him a question? Well, you have told him he’s stupid over and over and over again, and each time, he believed it more and more, until that….he became. He had to take his life, because it was meaningless… your words said.

We wonder why she always covers herself in layers and layers of makeup that make her down and take away her identity, but it’s our words that broke her mirror. 
Now each time she looks at herself it’s through the broken mirror of your words that told her she was nothing and she would never get anywhere in life. 
She sees herself differently now, she’s even allowed men to have their way with her, cause she was trash anyway, cause that’s what you and I told her…. And all because of our words, we crushed her….until trash indeed she became.

You call him a fagat, isitabane, adding to the wound of worthlessness you have already bore through him with your words that deformed him and made him that. How could he see any value and admiration in a woman when his own mother never admired him, never embraced him. Daily he would seat cocooned in his little shell wishing daddy was still alive, because at least he would hold him, made him feel he counted, not doubted. You don’t know the cost of his choices, so don’t judge him no, he’s not an alien, he’s not a psycho, he misses his daddy, he just wants to know he’s loved, he just longs to be embraced and belong.
Now all he has to take away the stigma is the smoke he blows through his nostrils, the sting of the needle that puts him off and makes him forget the blade of your words that seers through his heart daily.

Sticks and stones may hurt my bones, but words will never hurt me, a FAT LIE. Sticks hurt, stones bruise, but from them you can quickly recover and soon forget their sting. But words, they don’t just disfigure from inside out, they cripple your being and there’s no cure for them.
With your words, love and encourage her and with the look in your eye, show him you care, tell him he matters. If with your lips you can do nothing else but curse him, zip them, for maybe then, with your lips you will build him. If your lips long to be open to give her a piece of your mind…you will be surprised if you just kept them sealed..and spread them out, they would turn into a smile.

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