The Weight of Words
She carries them, heavy as stones,
Each syllable etched into bone.
A whispered "no," a careless slight,
Looping in her mind each night.
She tries to set them down, release,
To trade her wounds for quiet peace,
But echoes claw and pull her back,
A reel of shame, a heart off track.
The critics' voices, sharp and cold,
Their echoes tightening their hold.
She begs her thoughts to let her be,
But they return relentlessly.
Each rejection, cruel, unfair,
She gasps for breath, but it’s not there.
She wonders if they ever knew
The weight of what their judgment grew.
Paralyzed beneath their gaze,
Lost inside a web of haze,
She wishes she could turn, walk free,
But they are roots beneath her feet.
And yet—if roots can dig so deep,
Perhaps from them, she still might reach,
To break the ground, to rise, to grow,
To trust her steps, to let them go.
About the Creator
Katie L. Kashan
I am retired, and for the first time in my life have time to pursue some passions that have been left in the back burner. I hope to develop emotional resilience and help others do that, too. My writing is AI assisted.
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