She used to say
“You’ll be sorry you were born a female.”
As if I had a choice at six
Little children come back for more.
She used to say
“You’ll be sorry you were born so smart.
Men don’t like smart women.”
I was twelve came back for more.
She used to say
“You’re so fat no one will want you.”
Twenty-nine, size five, a hundred three pounds
But I came back for more.
At forty-six the therapist said
“Words hurt more than bruises.”
I pondered…
I questioned…
I wrote…
No wonder I wear so much black
And paint my walls multiple shades of blue.
All rights reserved. ©2009 by Sara Fryd
Oh yes. Words can hurt more than bruises, scar more deeply than knife wounds, burn more than fire. Yes, yes, and we come back for more when those words come from the right person.
Seriously dear, I can’t afford all this tissue!
i wear so much black
i colored my ceiling blue
every word hurts upon realizing they’re from the wrong people…
Pain – The reality of life. Those who love us are the ones who hurt us deepest, but in the love, it is for love and for our growth when they tell us the truth.
I realized today that you are not on my blogroll and so I vow to rectify this mistake. You will be added. Thanks for visiting and for sharing.
It’s incredible how well this flowed… somehow you tapped into the collective unconscious spoke my thoughts. Our thoughts. Blessings to you Sara.
It sounds like the same script I heard, still hear, when my defenses are down. Sad who we have to shut out sometimes.
This resonates – at each stage a memory rekindled. Still fresh. Still raw.