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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