Broken strings & Pretty things

The world, seen through a young girl's eyes.

Words.

Like bullets in the midst of shadows, words are cataclysmic and send you spinning.

Your mother tells you that ‘sticks and stones may break your bones, but words will never hurt you’, but you soon realise that they shatter everything that you once held dear; they penetrate deeper than any sword or spear and leave scars that may never heal. They make you question yourself, everyone else and anything else. Because under every word, is heartbreak. Under every last whisper is the crashing sound of torment.

Words make you lose faith. They shake you; they break you.

That is, if you let them.

You have the choice. You can let them burn you, or instead, you can let them burn. You can destroy every hushed syllable or streaked black letter and watch them emblazen in flames. Rather than succumb to their harsh criticism and deceit, you can use them as firewood in the inferno of your passions.

You can either become numb inside, or you can become numb to their appraisal.
You can either believe what they have to say, or you can believe yourself what you have instilled in yourself.
You can change their opinions of you, as long as you never change your opinion of yourself.

Because, you have what it takes.
You wouldn’t be where you are now if you didn’t.

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