When Silence Becomes My Language

I’ve learned to speak without a sound,

To scream where no one is around.

My silence isn’t empty — it’s full of weight,

Of truths I chose not to translate.

There are things I’ve seen, things I know,

But silence is where I let them go.

Not because I’m weak or shy,

But because some wounds just never dry.

I walk through crowds with quiet grace,

A thousand storms behind my face.

I listen more than I ever speak,

Not because I'm small — because I'm deep.

You ask, “Why don’t you open up more?”

But some stories rot behind closed doors.

And some days, I need no sound,

Just the strength of keeping my ground.

Silence taught me how to feel,

To look inward, to truly heal.

It gave me peace where words would fail,

A compass when the world went pale.

So if I don’t speak when you expect me to,

Know this — I still see you, still feel you too.

My silence is not a missing part,

It’s just how I protect my heart.