Freewrite Entry: “Corrupt”


I fell in love with words.  I claimed them without hesitation.  I seized every vowel and consonant in the precise moment each touched the air.  I grew faint at his breath, but never did I care to feel his touch; the sound of his voice was all I needed.  I never again put such faith in a person’s tongue.

Perhaps the only thing I mourned more for than my weary heart was the gravity of words.  To speak is a privilege, and I think of this at every instance that my lips part.  It never happened upon my mind that a person could misuse something as precious as words — that they could ever be so hollow.

I gave him words of my own.  Words that I now know he wasn’t entitled to hear.  Words that he couldn’t return with the same worth.  Words that I’ll never be able to unsay.


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