The Strength Behind the Silence

If I told you I was hurting,

Would you turn your face away?

Or would you sit beside my silence

And let your presence stay?

If I let my tears fall freely,

Would you call it something weak?

Or would you honor the quiet strength

It takes for me to speak?

If I said, “I’m not okay,”

Would you think less of who I am?

Or would you see a soul still standing

Doing everything they can?

If we stripped away the silence,

And gave our truth a name,

Would we find the weight we carry

Was never ours to shame?

If healing came in pieces,

Not in perfect, linear lines,

Would you still believe in progress

When the darkness sometimes shines?

If we listened with more kindness,

And judged a little less,

Would the world begin to soften—

Would we all feel less like mess?

If strength means hiding nothing,

If it means I speak my truth,

Then maybe I am braver now

Than I ever was in youth.

So if I share my story,

Let it echo, let it stay—

Not as weakness in the telling,

But as light that finds its way.