Jade McGlynn Poet Spoken Word

When silence takes me

It feels like a lock
Click
slamming shut on a door I used to walk through without thinking.

Words
they pile up inside me.
Not gone.
Not lost.
Just trapped. 
Like a river swelling against a dam that will not break.

My mouth is stone.
My body heavy.
And every attempt to speak is like running in a dream:
legs sinking,
distance endless, 
the finish line always just out of reach.

Inside, I am screaming.
Inside, I am whispering.
Inside, I am still me.
But you can’t hear me.

Because the silence is thick.
Not empty, no.
Thick with frustration,
thick with shame,
thick with the ache
of wanting
so desperately wanting to be understood
without having to explain.

So don’t rush me.
Don’t push me.
Stay.
Wait with me
in the quiet.
Because this silence
is not absence.
It is survival.
It is my body saying:
enough.

And when I return
when my voice crawls back
know this:
I was never gone.
I was always here.
Behind the glass.
Behind the lock.
Still me.
Always me.

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