It used to bother me

How some people can be so mean

I have a journal where I’ve written each encounter

I read through them this morning, it took an hour

How I’m too young, how I’m too thin, how I don’t fit in

How I’m incompetent

I can see each mouth that spewed the words

A string of accusations, fault-finding, and curse

It used to make me crumble

And over the years I stumbled

Second-guessed a lot of things

I’ve pondered the why behind the mean

Fast forward six years and I’m still here

With a closet full of journals

Cruelty on paper

Was there any truth in them

They made me bend

Somehow made me greater

It happened again just the other day

A feisty remark on how in me the company made a mistake

She even tried to grab me after pointing and shouting

A few years ago, I’d break

But this time it rolled right over me

Into the abyss of journals, a dark sea

One of many hurdles

As I keep climbing

It’s exciting – reading another book

I like to read, write, and speak those words

About how there’s been a reverse of the curse

The accuser is slayed

There’s a better way

So I retaliate

And tell that woman she is lovely

Somehow I mean it

She needed it

In her journal kindness didn’t fit

So she let go of it

On the horizon I see a fire

Where false words are tossed

The devil is a liar

You are wonderful