She Follows the Birds to Freedom

They Say Words Will Make You Brave

They say words will make you brave.
So I whisper them.
They echo in the hollows of my chest,
begging to be freed,
My words see me as a cage,
I hold them back from flight,
I keep a tight rein on their stamping feet and bright eyes, for they are wild.
They are dangerous, and I refuse to regret letting them loose before their time.
They say words will make you brave,
so I write them.
And they rebound from the page
into someone's soul, and make a mark that I can only hope is meaningful and good.
I know that I don't always say what I should nor do I always do everything I could to make them count.
The words, I mean,
not the memories.
I have no control over memories, not anymore, they seem to happen before
I can even make them last,
I can only savor the aftertaste,
or strain to hear the echoes they make.
Echoes like the words in my chest,
vibrating and syncopating,
restlessly waiting for when
they can be set free.
They say words make you bold,
So I try to roar,
but something is blocking the cords
that want to shake the heavens out.
For I was not born strong or fierce,
I was not born with the fire that
lights up others eyes.
I was born in a state between
otherwise and nonetheless.
The type that cries when they are furious,
and become silent when sad,
I was born with laughter.
It is the timbre of my roar,
but it also covers up the fear that I store
deep under the layer of heart and soul.
It is not like this for most,
I am a mystery to myself,
and I do not seek attention
for words do not make me
any of the things mentioned,
Words make me free.
So I am them.
But for you, my dear
For you, words are your pillar and foundation,
So when they say words will make you brave,
Say them.
SK