The Quiet I Carry

I grew up holding words I was never meant to say

Swallowing the sound so no one looked my way

Silence felt safer than the risk of being seen

So I hid inside a version of myself that wasn't me

I learned to read the room before I learned to breathe

Learned to take the blame before I learned to leave

Some kids grow with sunlight, I grew under doubt

Trained to shut my mouth before the truth slipped out

And every little comment carved deeper in my spine

Every don't do that rewired my mind

I carried my feelings like forbidden contraband

Afraid of being wrong, afraid to take a stand

So I buried the noise and pretended it was gone

But silence can be heavy when you hold it for too long

You can train a voice to whisper, you can force it not to speak

But the quiet I carried wasn't gentle, it was bleak

I started dreaming loudly into places no one saw

Painting worlds in shadows with imaginary law

But the moment I woke up, I put my soul away

Hiding every spark I had so I didn't go astray

I became the good kid, the tough one, the stone

The mass they all praised while I crumbled alone

The quiet grew sharper, turned into a shield

Protecting every part of me I'd never let reveal

But deep inside the silence, something kept alive

A spark too stubborn to die, too wild to survive

It waited for a moment when the dam would finally break

When the quiet I carried would become the sound I make