I've been working on a fanfiction for Camp NaNoWriMo this month, but when I opened up my writing notebook to find what I wrote down during my break at work today, I came across this old poem I wrote and thought I should share it.

My Words

My words are my thoughts.
They are my identity.
Each syllable past my lips,
Each letter scribbled by my hands
Is a tiny segment of me
Broken off from the soul
And carefully gift wrapped
For those with enough patience
To listen,
To read,
And understand.

My words are important.
Without them I could not express
The worlds I have stored and cultivated
Inside my head.
I could not write.
I could not speak.
I could not be who I am.
I could not express to the world my ideals,
My wisdom,
My wit.

My words are sacred.
MY words are my religion.
MY words are a shining light in the night,
Shadows in the day,
Paintings of the worlds I wish to see.

My words are everything
To me.
I do not waste them on things not worth my attention.
I do not slather them on thick at the commands of those wanting.
I sprinkle my words.
I sow them with care.
I plant them in the hopes that they may grow into a beautiful garden.

My words are my world.
My words are me.
My words are
My words.