me and my words- a poem about bullying awareness and mindfulness

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by valentinairidesca

by valentinairidesca

Me and My Words: by Mariah Chavez

There's words trapped in my head
'Bubblin and Steamin'
Till they get hot and red
And oh do they spill
Cascading down my throat
Like a venus trap- snap- and
It's over
We don't know the damage we've done

It wasn't until I was bullied in my first year of middle school, that I discovered mindfulness.
We get taught manners
Not malice, malevolence or malign

Yet here I am and there you are
Pointing and laughing at my lip scar

Like honey trilling down a bear's throat
You ate up all the attention you received from a little bullying

As I look back now
I realize you were company
That you never needed eyelashes, ladybugs or four-leaved clovers

You had me.
So maybe you didn't mean to hurt me- you probably loved me back-

And that's the crack between us.
In our lives made of sidewalk paths
Time can't stop how much I sugar coat
The real damage you did.

But somehow my reflection soon only showed your scowling face.
I've only learned from the best.
Teaching me to hate my body
And my organs within.
Teaching me the art of deception and how to stroke my brush

My paintings were innocent.
Yours were magnificent.

But somehow we were the same.
Unconditional love isn't selfish;
It's wanting the best for someone- even if at the moment it's not you.

It might've not been consistent, but that's what I did.

When you said your parents fought and how you were distraught.

How your crush smiled at your lovely face, making those brown eyes twinkle.

I didn't say all the words inside my head. Or tell you that pricey dress you loved was ugly.
And consistently ring that dreaded brass bell in your ear, made of a tune that went like:

"He's not going to ever like you back"
"What are you, an XL now?"
"You gotta start shaving those legs"
"That was so retarded"
"What a spaz"
"Just stop talking"

And on and on and on

Me and my words were stupid
And I'm sorry
Me and my words were tired
Of all the remarks

But I can't ever, won't ever look at myself without putting on those cloudy goggles of insecurites.

And my stroke of my brush,
Is too well taught to stop sometimes.

Me and my words lashed out.
Created a monster, who was finally en route.

The funny thing about life is that she's just as emotional as me.
But you don't see that as you pull her beauty
Uprooting all you see; kicking her down with all your industries.

And just like life we are on cycles
We imitate all we see.

So dear best friend come see what your
Lessons of corruption and hate made of
Me and my words
Who are full of shame

So I'm sorry to the people I've taught to do the same.