Sticks and Stones | Teen Ink

Sticks and Stones

October 21, 2015
By AbbyRobinson SILVER, Jeffersonville, Kentucky
AbbyRobinson SILVER, Jeffersonville, Kentucky
8 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Sticks and stones may break my bones but words shall never hurt me.

Words shall never hurt me.
Words shall never hurt me.
Words shall never hurt me.
Do you have any idea how many of us had to say this awful rhyme in the back of our heads everyday because it was the last string holding us together? But in reality, it was the string between our tin cans preventing us from seeing that we weren’t alone.
Yeah sure, most of us didn’t show up with bruises on our sides or cigarette burns on our arms and leave with black eyes and bloody noses. But we left with stab wounds to the back from our “friends” and arrows through the chest from people who we thought loved us. Some of us showed up and the first thing you noticed was the smoke and alcohol but it wasn’t from us it was from them.
Some of us had hearts that needed serious medical attention and only had band-aids to cover up the holes in our chest. We were left alone and forced to do the stitches ourselves because no one wanted to hold a heart that’s easy to break. No one wanted to touch something that could fall apart at the seams, and no one wants to buy a toy that’s already been played with to the point gentle is all you can be. Their words were stones they threw at our chest everyday. Stoned until they busted through our chest and hit our hearts. We used these same stones to build the walls that surround us today. They play with us and send us onto the next poor fellow that gets to deal with someone who can barely tell them their birthday.
And then there are those who are so used to looking down, they don’t even know where up is. You ask us to look up and you can hear our necks crack from the rust, because that’s where our confidence is, where our life is always going, and honestly the ground is where some of us would rather be, because being six feet under and being six inches away and screaming for help, seems like the same thing anymore.

Then you get to the point where all that screaming feels pointless, because you’re almost invisible and no one seems to hear you and the ones who do, either don’t listen or refuse to help you. So even speaking hurts and rips away at the vocal chords that you have left. So you submerge yourself in your own sadness. You don’t share it with anyone because they don’t deserve it...but you do, right? Because there has to be something that makes you less than human. Something that defines you as inhumane.

Maybe you aren’t as smart as the kid sitting next to you, maybe you aren’t as pretty as the girl in front of you, maybe you aren’t as strong as the boy behind you, maybe you have a disability, maybe you have a birthmark, maybe your sexuality isn’t what others call “acceptable”, maybe you’re too short or too tall, maybe your boobs are barely noticeable, or maybe your muscles aren’t defined enough, maybe you aren’t skinny or curvy enough, maybe you just aren’t enough, maybe you aren’t fashion-forward, maybe the music you listen to is stupid, maybe the movies you watch are dumb, maybe everything about you is WRONG!
….Maybe you can’t stand to look in a mirror because you hate what you see, maybe you're always looking in a mirror and searching for that one thing that’s wrong with you. Maybe you can name several things others or even yourself don’t like about your reflection, Maybe you just can’t seem to find what’s so wrong with you, And maybe you’d rather not know in fear that whatever it may be, is out of your control. So yeah, sticks and stones may break your bones but words will break your heart.

But, what ever happened to “Words shall not hurt me”? You repeated it like a broken record in hopes that you’d believe in yourself. But when you’re so used to lies, it’s hard to trust anyone, and eventually anyone includes yourself. However, even though broken bones may take only months at most to heal and hearts can take years upon years to do the same, it isn’t impossible. You can make a splint for your broken heart. Time can heal the scars you’ve been cursed with. But whatever you do, don’t break the mirror.
That mirror supplies more than just insults and opinions, it’s broken shards against your skin could be the one thing that heals your pain, but you’re wrong. The mirror may show you being alone, but you have to know you’re not. And the ‘mirror mirror on the wall’ trick isn’t true I promise. You can’t trust what a mirror has to say about you because, it only scratches the surface, fore the surface is all that it can see. It takes what you think and reflects it back to you like any good mirror should. It misleads you like carnival mirrors and masks, makes you seem like the clown with not enough makeup or the star of the freak show.
But, if this is true...where do we go? Why do we go to mirrors to see who we are, when all they’re gonna do is tell you what you’re afraid to hear? Where do we look if not a mirror or the grape vine? Who are we to be if not our reflection? What are we supposed to do besides keep staring? ...Well, that’s not an easy answer. But if you were to ask me- if you were to waste your time on talking to me...this is what I would say.
I would tell you to look at your heart. Instead of throwing everything others can already see into the mirror, try showing off the one thing you don’t want anyone to see. Put the item you’ve concealed behind makeup and lies on the table and let it speak for itself. No filter, no blank spaces, no lies. Let it tell all your stories, truths, likes, and dislikes. After that, unfortunately there will still be people who think you’re just another broken toy. But, there will now be people who want to try and fix you because now they understand that you are human. You are just like them and you don’t deserve what you’ve been given. Then I would tell you that it would be hard, maybe the hardest thing you’ve ever done. But this is important, this is life or death. This is your future or your past. This is where you finally get to choose how your life will unfold. And then I would tell you In the end sticks, stones, and mirrors are still all inanimate objects that do not compare to the life that you hold. So don’t let them have the power to change who you are.


The author's comments:

This is a "slam" poem I wrote, so it's meant to be read aloud. I was inspired by the "To This Day" project by Shane and a girl named Dillion I met at a writing convention. She was amazing and the stories she told were spoken with so much entusiasm that I wanted to try one myself. This rhyme has always been something i've heard almost everyday of my life, and was said to me 24/7 in Elementary school. So I wanted to use it as the base of this and i'm really proud of this and it's probably one of my personal favorite pieces i've written.


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