Language Matters

I listened as she spoke, driving her point home, confidently and intelligently.

He didn’t have a rebuttal, just nodded his head, approvingly.

She complimented him while correcting him. Her velvet glove allowing his defences to dim.

Anger seemed better received, as she delivered it with emotion alongside thought.

Women admired her, wanting to be taken as seriously. Others envied her.

Men took her on, backing down as she matched their volume and demeanor.

While she didn’t always speak from a place of lived experience, she spoke with curiosity and purpose.

Someone who was thoughtful before they spoke, but also during the argumentative circus.

I wanted her use of language. Her tone, volume, pace and confidence.

The freedom in her voice to speak her mind without repercussions.

In a world where authenticity is asked for but seldom appreciated.

Language, intended to express our truth, is traded for life curated.

My truth could set me free, but risks keeping me lonely.

We all want the freedom to be heard, but not the war that comes with honesty.

There is freedom in language, but chains dictate our expression.

Speak up so we can hear you, but water down your words so we can tolerate the lesson.

Somewhere we got lazy in our thoughts, feelings and representations.

Lazy language risks lazy thoughts, and recycles lazy feels and lazy conversations.

Honest words hope to liberate us from our filtered selves.

Maybe if more of us pledge it, we could finally dust off our souls from the bookshelves.