In Silence No More

Sky, ocean-deep and iron-grey.

mind stagnant—a puddle frozen in time.

My inside collapses, silent;

cold flames devour to marrow.

The flare returns, over and over,

an archival burn: time after time.

A crack that runs deep,

awakens to a familiar frequency.

I asked Father—

why the cruelty, why the betrayals?

My heart: piercings beyond count, bleeding dusk;

my trust: a toy, handled until hollow;

my intelligence: clouded and blocked;

my loyalty: taken, swallowed—

throat locked: no voice to escape.

Sunlight is a wound,

the door too far away

even for a dweller.

Today,

the pain arrives once again.

I damn it.

With rage.

With dare.

For years—my youth, my time, my work—

fingernails pressed into the palm,

cold sweat at the veined temple.

I stare up at Him—honest, raw—

I vow:

no more perpetual silence;

no more rehearsed burial.

Split open the crack;

hold it to the light;

unleash in fury,

veins pumping,

skin burned,

chest pounding,

cries held silent—

then a soothing peace.

Resurrection—not by accident, not by luck—

but here, in this life, with my own hands:

rooting, rising, breaking.