Your Words Saved My Soul

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Their words cut into my skin and pierced my soul. I didn’t want to listen, but I found myself compelled to absorb every single syllable. Each word became a harsh stab wound; every sentence was a bullet into my heart. Slowly and methodically through their belittling banter, I became a bloody, beaten mess of flesh and bones. Eventually, I was left there, broken and fragile, unable to defend myself, too worn to run away.

Each judgment transformed to a single, smooth stone. Their stares worked as slingshots, hurling their repulsive rocks at me. Their curses moved the stones that soon begin to bury me: my broken, pathetic soul. The gravel weighed me down and I gasped for air, accepting the reality that my sinister deeds had led me here to my death.

Suddenly, as if like magic, an angelic vocalization filled the space around me: your voice. Your words weaved a beautiful tapestry, a delightful serenade. Slowly, I felt as if I could breathe again, as if the song of your eloquent syllables are the only thing saving me. You removed the rocks one by one with your heartfelt sentences; your phrases delicately strung together to cover the seeping wounds, stopping the blood from completely leaving my body. It didn’t matter who else heard your song, for I heard it and adored.

Once the stones were gone, and my mangled body exposed, your outstretched hand was there to pull me from the wreckage. Your smile healed my heart, your kindness saved my soul. As I stumbled out from beneath the rocky rubble, finding the strength to stand, I was met with a soft, loving embrace. My eyes began to fill with tears as I found the unconditional love of a complete stranger, someone willing to accept me for all that I am instead of cast my monstrous, mangled body aside.

We stood there together, side by side, arm in arm, and observed the desolate landscape. We could see the fires burning, the bullets flying through the air, yet, somehow, all we felt was calm. We were surrounded in the peace that only comes when you’ve found a kindred spirit; we were protected from the war because we had each other. Your words saved me; your existence gave me life. TC mark

Megan Glosson

Writer. Mental Health/Disability Advocate. Mom. Lover of All.

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