I’ve
fallen from bikes, from rollerblades, from ice skates, from shoes. I’ve been
scraped and sprained and battered and bruised. I fear the sensation of falling,
and crashing, and tumbling, and the aching that will inevitably follow.
But
while I may fear the sticks and stones and broken bones, I don’t remember them.
I don’t remember the pain of a tattoo needle until I’m already in the chair. I
don’t remember the sting of pavement carving off skin until I’m already on the
ground. I don’t remember the force of a lego piece until it is already
underfoot. I forget these things, diminish these things, wince once at the
pain and move on.
But someone
called me annoying once, and I have believed it ever since.
And
someone criticized my excitement once, and I have subdued myself ever since.
And
someone listed all my flaws once, and I've had them branded in my brain ever since.
Sticks
and stones may break my bones, but words are easier to memorize.
