Devastation can and has come from voiced opinions, tormenting regurgitated secrets, and mirrored insecurities. I am an expert marksmen when it comes to tearing down opponents, adversaries, and loved ones when I reach a boiling point. I can be ruthless when it comes to finding words to string together that can unravel someone's safety and trust.
There are too many people who have suffered the wrath of my weapons of mass destruction. I can't apologize for the unknown and numerous times I have unleashed my words. Nor can I undue the damage rendered. I can proliferate the emotions that provoke their use.
I can discover the rogue attitudes that are harvesting ideas and prejudices. I cannot disassemble my stockpile of already existing and primed weapons. They are there with launch codes already programmed to protect the inner most vulnerable parts of my body and soul that my ego is unwilling to expose.
I am finding the villages and tribes inside me who have found refuge in the walled in compounds of my past. Seal Team 6 is performing exercises on my trust. My terrorist organizations are trying to have three cups of tea. I am realizing that dying is no more easy than staying alive while guarded and secluded. There are peace treaties to be made in my head. The childish nature of my soul is playing in fields that were previously saturated with mines, sadly losing limbs to the uncovered explosion of my self hatred.
I am learning to be civilized. I am putting down my Words as Weapons. It may be awhile before I can kick them away and out of reach. My wish is for the Angels of joy to come and confiscate them, replacing them with flowers.
