Posted in Poetry


I’ve built myself a pedestal, so I can stand tall and high

It’s mostly made up of stories,

(Though there’s also some pretty lies).

It was easy to climb it and even more to look down from.

See, the words help you drown out sounds,

people and places; memories of things that hurt.


So that when you look down,

you can only see the memories

Of the time you created the lie.

There’s no way you’ll get hurt up there,

Words are yours to take, no one can hurt you

If you’re standing high up in the air.


But words make us prisoners

And sometimes they’re enough to take us down.

Just tell me a word,

Just one word.


And if that seems impossible a simple sentence will do,

And drag me down from my ankles to the cold reality of the ground

Remind me in one sentence what it means to survive

Gag me with new words and teach me their meaning

Show me the pedestal was worthless.

Show me the truth in human kindness.




23-year-old writer from Chile. Currently reading, writing, and trying not to lose my mind.

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