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The Prismatic Self

I write because silence was a tyrant with a velvet muzzle. Because childhood was a soundproof cage, and I was taught to swallow every scream like communion. “Poetry is not therapy,” the judge says— but he has never been buried alive under the weight of unsaid things. This is not a poem. It is an autopsy where I hold the scalpel and the mirror. Anadiplosis: I write because I wasn’t heard. Wasn’t heard because I was too broken to speak. Too broken to speak, so I taught my wounds to whisper in metre. Litotes: It’s not that I never had a voice— it’s that I had no listeners. Each stanza is a splinter pried from the bones of a girl forgotten by the system, a girl mistaken for a file number, a dosage, a relapse, a risk. I am made of metaphors because truth was never safe naked. I stage my pain on the theatre of the page— not to perform, but to practise resurrection. My life has been a series of auditions before indifferent gods: Family court. Rehab. Recovery. Rejection letters. I walk into each contest like a gladiator into a coliseum of clipped tongues and sharpened pens. Not to win— but to remind the world I survived the audition for my own existence. Conceit: My soul is a prism— fractured, but scattering light in more directions than a whole thing ever could. I invented a word for what I am: Echolucence— the condition of glowing only when echoed, of finding light in the return of your own voice. So ask me again: Why do I write? Because I am still learning to believe that I am not noise. That my voice is a weapon, a balm, a bell rung in defiance of the silence that built me. And maybe this poem isn’t for you. Maybe it’s for the girl I used to be— the one who carved poems into her ribs just to feel something resonant. Echolucence (n.) 1. The condition of glowing only when echoed. 2. A rare and radiant state in which one shines solely in response to resonance—be it sound, memory, or emotion. 3. The quiet art of illumination triggered not from within, but from the return of one’s own voice. Usage: She did not shine in solitude, but when her words came back to her through another’s lips, she shimmered with echolucence. Etymology: From echo (a repeated sound) + lucence (the quality of emitting light). Coined on a drizzly afternoon by someone who realised they only truly glow when heard. Synonyms: Reflectionglow, Reverberlight, Murmurshine Antonyms: Self-illuminary, Solaglow Note: May flicker in silence. Best nurtured in resonant company.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Date: 5/18/2025 8:57:00 PM
Your writing shows all these things, dear Aaliyah. May you always keep this flame.
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Aaliyah O'Neil
Date: 5/19/2025 1:52:00 PM
Thank you so much for your heartfelt encouragement. I truly appreciate your kind words and will do my best to keep the flame burning bright.
Date: 5/10/2025 3:30:00 PM
This is phenomenal.
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Aaliyah O'Neil
Date: 5/13/2025 7:13:00 AM
Thank you so much—that really means a lot to me. This poem came from a very personal place, and to know it resonated with you in any way is incredibly meaningful. I’ve found that writing helps me process things I’ve struggled to say out loud, and I’m grateful for the space poetry gives us to do that. I truly appreciate you taking the time to read it.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things