Tonight's Poet Corner: An Ode To Naysayers
An Ode To Naysayers by Belinda Roddie I think you need to talk a little louder when scolding me - I can't smell the searing of my cerebral meat unless you scorch it rather than simply singe it, leave black marks across my memories, amp up my anxiety attacks with a branding iron. If you don't pump up the volume, I will only be left with the echo of your admonishment. Of your mockery. Of your attempt to shame me. You want to discipline me, as if you are the headmaster and I'm the quivering student sweating through their uniform, clenching a leatherbound journal between both hands like I'm squeezing my heart between my lungs, forcing every breath out one by one by one. Your words glued together are a yardstick ready to turn my knuckles purple from your self-prepared percussion. I am not weak or frail, though if I were, how much more monstrous you would look, rather than simply petty and pompous. You handle authority like a golden bauble; you thin