Words That Wait

There is a silence that does not soothe

a silence that piles like snow

on the roof of the heart

until the beams moan

under the weight.

***

Inside me,

a thousand unsaid things

crowd the walls.

Not one of them fits

into the space I am given.

***

I carry them,

like letters never posted,

like songs trapped

behind closed lips.

***

I do not wish to be loud,

only to be known.

***

I want to spill

without restraint

the clutter of my thoughts,

the wild bloom of my questions,

the fragile threads of my worries.

***

I want a voice

to meet mine

not to fix

only to stay

and listen

until storms settle.

***

There are nights

when I fold myself

into quiet shapes,

smoothing my pain

so it doesn’t show.

***

I ache for the intimacy

of shared breath

and no performance.

The warmth of arms

not for lust,

but for refuge.

***

To talk

without watching

my own mouth,

without fearing

my own truth.

***

I am not lonely

for company.

I am lonely

for recognition.

***

And still

I carry on,

cracking open my soul

in invisible places,

leaving signs

only the attentive could find.

***

One day

I will speak

and not be dismissed.

Someone will hear me

and not interrupt.

***

They will understand

that listening

is an act of love

and they will love me

enough to hear.

***

But if no one comes,

if no voice answers mine,

I will still speak.

I will not go silent

to keep the peace of others.

***

I will become

the one who listens to me.

I will make a home

inside my own heart,

soft enough to hold

every unspoken word.

And there

I will find my way to joy.