My Words

By Sol Dente, TIWP Student

My words are not what you want them to be.

My words are not neat print.

Or swooping cursive.

My words are not perfect thesis statements.

Written in golden ink.

Adorned with jewels and gems.

My words are not evidence.

Not quotes anchored by heavy iron.

Nor citations cupped in round black hands.

My words are not argumentative.

Not fortresses of logic.

Or catapults of counterpoints.

Tiny soldiers of letters and numbers.

Do not protect my ramparts.

And a navy built of sentences.

Does not defend my borders.

My words are not what you want them to be.

My words are the stories you don’t want me to tell.

The swirls of magic.

Growls of dragons.

Roars of space ships.

And flashes of swords.

That don’t belong on a MLA cited page.

My words are an endless stream of thoughts.

A couple words of poems.

Half finished stories.

Characters, names, places.

Anything that crosses my mind.

My words are broken things.

Adrift on a sea of tears.

Drowning in emotions that can only find their place on the page.

Shards of glass and metal reforming into something new.

My words are my imagination.

Boundless worlds created in the blink of an eye.

Tales spun from yarn that glistens like the sun.

Story after story.

Coming to life in bright bursts.

Like the firing of neurons.

My words are not what you want them to be.

My words are my own.

And that is what makes them beautiful.

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