The girl who speaks
She speaks like thunder,
bold and unafraid.
while I shrink into silence,
each word carefully weighed.
She cries,
and the world wraps around her like warmth.
I ache,
and no one sees the storm beneath my calm.
She shouts,
and they say she's brave.
I whisper,
and they say I’m cold.
She spills her heart
on every table,
bitter or sweet
and still, they listen.
Still, they stay.
But me?
I bury mine beneath tired smiles,
bite down on every angry word,
swallow every ache
until I forget what it was I wanted to say.
And when we fight-
even when I’m right-
her tears are louder than my truth.
So they choose her pain
and paint me cruel.
I envy her freedom.
Not her life,
not her laugh
just the way she lets herself feel
without apology.
While I sit in silence,
always the calm one,
always the strong one,
slowly breaking beneath the weight
of everything I never say.
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