Silence.
I hear her
between my lungs
and feel her stand
behind my ribs.
She is proud.
I am fragile,
but no longer
theirs.
I am mine.
This body
is my home,
broken,
ugly,
scarred,
and sacred.
Faith stands guard
over my healing bones
as Silence holds my hand
and we leave behind
the kiln
and clay
and smiling faces
now turned sour
as they realize
I won’t be quiet again.
Silence
has unleashed
her unbridled rage.
And I,
I am no longer
afraid.

Leave a Reply