Konch Magazine - All the Words You Know by Constance Moore

All the Words You Know
 
All the words you know
fit
just inside
the palm of your hand
Don’t blow them away
Fragments
as scattered as your mind,
drift to far away places
like the family you once held close
Do not clench your fist around them,
a phrase
should not be crushed
or stifled
Do not wring your hands
in worry,
or bite your nails down to the flesh,
siliva soaked language is limp
and useless for you now
Do not fold your palms in prayer,
you are not waiting to be healed
You are a miracle
ripped to shreds,
a tome to be uncovered
Keep your mind and your hands open
Receive the best I have to offer,
black lines scratched on white paper
A meager inheritance,
I know
Use them,
not your hands,
when the blind rage comes
And it will come,
powerful and sure of itself,
earsing all doubt
These words are yours
Weapons, 
to wage peace,
brilliant and exquisite
against all odds
You are a blessing
The world is waiting
Don’t blow it away