I built a mound,a hill, and eventually, a mountain.
A cliff edge constructed of dressers filled with closed drawers.
I scale this precipice to witness the contents
–the words I actually wanted to say.
My escalades are covert coercions into my psyche
A fissure is etched from an echo of hate, disgust, and ignorance, through
an echo tumble the mountain from its position of rest.
The landslide of words cascade dramatically rolling stones and drawers in
splinters releasing their treasures to the earth.
Drawers broke by the unsheathed tongue.
The landform decimated.
I said the words I needed to say.