The Weight of Silence

There’s a quiet in the air tonight,

not the kind that blankets stars,

but the kind that lingers like smoke,

hiding words behind its haze.

We talk but don’t listen,

like echoes in a canyon,

fading before they have the chance

to meet the other side.

The weight of silence—

it’s heavier than a storm,

but we carry it,

like an old suitcase with no handle.

We’ve learned to look away

when hearts break

and we’ve forgotten how to ask

if someone needs a hand.

Sometimes, I wonder...

if we ever said what we truly felt,

would the world fall apart,

or would it finally make sense?

We build walls to stay safe,

but in the shadows, we forget,

the most dangerous thing of all

is the silence we accept.

In the quiet spaces between words,

there’s a truth we try to bury,

we’re all just waiting,

waiting for someone to listen,

waiting for someone to speak.

But the silence holds us captive,

and the key is within us.

Perhaps one day we’ll find it,

and finally, let ourselves breathe.