Words are all I have,
to tame the chaos;
you have wrought upon every organ, in my body.

Words are all I have,
to quell the havocs;
you have wreaked in every crevasse, of my world.

Words are all I have ever truly loved,
in the ‘doing’ of life, in the doing of work, in the doing of art;
in the ‘doing’ of self.

I cannot hate you,
for you do precisely as I;
battle for survival, at the other’s expense. 

But I cannot accept you,   
for to do so is to accept a life;
unequivocally, unacceptable, to me.

My words, my mind, my life's blood;
You will not take these from me, Lyme.

Marcela: Desperately seeking: back to words. 
October 14, 2019

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