The Silence I Break Only on Paper

My hand shakes,

pen scraping ragged lines

where the truth lives,

a weight I carry only

when the world isn’t looking.

Words spill rough,

a confession brittle and heavy

folded tight in torn edges,

a secret too jagged

for voices, but safe in ink.

Here I can say the hurt,

say the silence I swallow

when lips are sealed

and eyes won’t meet.

It’s a confession without breath—

a heavy truth lighter

only because it’s written,

a place where I can be

brave in the quiet,

and broken all at once.