I took a writing class and feared writing afterwards. I read all my words in the voice of my professor, criticizing and throwing around the word ‘cliche’. Why did it seem as if that was the deadliest word to ever be said?
I posted an honest poem and feared sharing afterwards. I got a message from my past, reminding me of all the reasons they hated me. Why did it seem my past mistakes were worth hiding my growth for?
I drink too much at a wedding and lay dizzy in bed, it was the first time around all my childhood friends. I was anxious for weeks at what they may have said. Why was I scared that they had seen that I had grown up?
Why do I fear words so much, why do they echo as if they were a religious chant, designed for blocking out demons when in reality they create more turmoil within?
When will words lose control, and when do I take that role?