A Quiet Rebellion

I did not scream.

I did not flip the table,

or throw my keys into the sea.

I simply stopped answering.

That was the revolution.

I drank my coffee slower.

Let the dishes sit.

Didn’t rush to fill

every silence with explanation.

I left messages unread

like unopened letters

from a country I no longer lived in.

I started saying “no”

without apology—

not loud, not cruel,

just clear.

Some rebellions

don’t sound like war drums.

They sound like

breathing again.