Snakebite

 I was thinking of inserting some pictures or a link to the effects of rattlesnake venom on the human body.  I'll spare you this time.  At any rate, if you want a fast way to lose your lunch, I suggest looking it up.  Pretty gross.

Among other pleasant things, rattlesnake venom breaks down the tissue of their prey, helping them to digest it better.  So when bitten, the area surrounding will burn away.  Again, gross.

So too is the effect of words.  Words are beautiful and amazing, but also incredibly powerful. A small "snakebite" may at first glance only seem like two tiny puncture wounds--but we cannot understand the damage that occurs under the surface. Some of us are more tolerable of such poisons, and can easily shrug it off, while others are severely allergic.

I just looked at more pictures.  Yep.  Still gross.

Here is a draft of a poem designed to convey the damage words can cause using this same snakey metaphor.

It sits between the grass
strikes unexpected
wounding, crippling,
tripping, sprawling.
The poison settles in
creeps through veins, tainting flesh
tearing cells, curling apart proteins, peeling apart delicate structures
bit by bit, piece by piece.
Disease takes hold, maggots grow
eating, devouring. Consuming weakened tissue
further weakening, further spreading.
Contaminated carrion. Still awake, but deadly, dangerous, tainted.
Rotting flesh, gangrenous appetite.
Into the beating heart, inside the shining brain
stinking pus, coiling parasites
the body reduced to pathetic weakness
lying still, hardly breathing, festering.
A hive. A hive of rotten meat and putrid air.
The beating stops. The heart twitches then dies
the body remains. Exposed beige bones and stretched tendons
matted hair and sunken spaces
a shell of what once was.
Sometimes I wonder
the significance of the phrase
"I will not say."