Words

A prose that I wrote during a 15-minute session in my Gotham Writing write-in.

Words

Words have always had a way of finding me
long before I knew what to do with them.
They showed up in the quiet places
where life felt too heavy to hold,
and in the loud moments when I needed a place
to set my truth down before it slipped out of my hands.

I used to think words belonged
to people braver than me,
people born knowing how to speak up,
how to claim space,
how to stand in rooms without shrinking.
But then life reminded me that words don't ask for permission.
They rise.
They move.
They insist.

And sometimes, they come for us
when we finally get tired of pretending
we don't have anything to say.

Words have carried me through heartbreak,
through healing,
through seasons where I was rebuilding myself
piece by tender piece.
They had held the parts of me I thought were too small,
too loud,
or not enough.

And every time I wrote one down,
it felt like I was choosing myself again.
Choosing hope over fear.
Choosing honesty over silence.
Choosing to show up even when it would've been easier to disappear.

So today, if you're still here,
wondering whether your story matters or
whether your voice is strong enough,
I hope you hear this clearly:

Your words are already doing the work.
They whisper courage
before you even speak.
They turn the smallest moments into meaning.
They turn your pain into something you can hold without breaking.

You don't have to shout.
You don't have to be perfect.
Just tell the truth as only you can tell it.

Because somewhere out there
someone is waiting for a sentence
that sounds like them,
written by someone who finally realized
that words aren't just what we say.

They are how we rise.

by Andrea Prescott
https://www.amazon.com/author/andrea.prescott