Too quiet

Justify every action in desperation,

as if excuses could hide

the ugliness you fear to see.

Drown out the noise you refuse to face,

in case the truth cuts too deep.

Turn your head when the mess is yours,

point the finger elsewhere

so no one notices.

Brush off every responsibility

until complacency roots itself

in your chest.

And without warning—

the gift of growth is gone.

Silence becomes your only defense.

But silence sharpens like glass:

it cuts deeper the longer you hold it,

turning excuses into shackles

you mistake for peace.

Too quiet,

you forget your voice was made for truth.

Too quiet,

you confuse avoidance with healing.

Too quiet,

and the world forgets you’re here.

But growth is noisy.

It cracks, it groans,

it shatters like stone

giving birth to mountains.

So choose:

keep hiding in silence,

or raise your voice—

even if it trembles—

and let the breaking

become your becoming.

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