I am not a shortcut.
I am a whole word.
To experience me fully
you need to sound me out
every letter
taste each syllable
that composes
the intricacies
of my story.
Chew slowly on
the knowledge you receive
remember it
savor it
the bitter and the sweet
balance them evenly
amid your palate
too much of one or the other
might leave a strange taste
in your mouth.
If I tell you my secrets
treat them like the personal shame
you intend to take to your grave
—guard them with your life—
do not let
your mouth get wayward
my privileged info plunging
from your irresponsible tongue.
Be extra careful with the skeletons.
If I trust you enough
to exhume them
from the closets
I have buried them in
do not let the tiny bones
get lodged between your teeth
the sizeable ones
caught in your throat
I know my objectionable facts
can be tough to swallow
hard to digest
try not to choke on your shock
do not be fooled
by this good-girl smile
I have not been the saint
these poems may
have you to believe.
I can be a hurriquake
first and last name
they frantically announce
when cautioning the world
of my impending doom.
If my mother were still here
she could tell you about
the day she watched me
barbarically shudder her house
gut an emotional intruder
on the phone
her eyes swamped with terror.
I wrote about it in detail
check my documents
I am just letting you know
what to expect
and simultaneously
you never know
what to expect
from my verbiage vault.
When I said I was a whole word
I also meant the truth.
See that?
Like a thesaurus
if you search me
you will find infinite ways
to define my complexities.
There are no contractions here.
You may not abbreviate
the parts of me
you find inconvenient.
You do not have permission
to eliminate pieces
of my original format.
Arrive prepared
to consume me in my entirety.
I hope I have made myself clear.
Do not
make me have to
spell it out for you.
©2023 Charlene E. Green
Listen to the audio HERE
