Quiet doesn’t fit me

I told myself this time I’d stay quiet.

Fold my questions like linens,

Place them on a shelf

Where no one sees the mess.

But silence doesn’t cradle me.

It itches like wool in summer,

Sits heavy in my chest.

A truth that wants out.

I’m tired of being misunderstood,

Tired of the eyes that narrow

When I speak of stars

Where they see only ceilings.

And still—I speak.

Not for applause,

Not for attention,

Not to persuade.

But to breathe.

Because words are how I unearth myself,

How I teach what I’m still learning.

A voice echoing in the depths of my soul,

Finding comfort

And clarity

In the sharing.

I try to hold it in.

I try not to be “too much.”

But the voice wins out.

Because every time I speak out loud,

I become a little more free.

And maybe,Even in the ache of exposure,

In the intense vulnerability,

The judgment,

The damning,

There’s something sacred

In the revealing.

So I will not stay quiet anymore.

I will speak out,

Even when it’s not well-received.

Because though I hope to touch hearts,

The truth is…

The one who needs this most

Is me.

-Leslie Nease