Silence

Silence.
It’s so beautiful when it’s chosen.
When I want to speak, it burns me like a devil would.
It throws me in a dungeon so I cannot see.
It refuses to feed me.

I speak for survival.
I speak so I do not die.
I speak so my thoughts can find homes.
I can only hold so many tenants.
I can only keep so much from you.

Silence is beautiful when it’s chosen.
But you wrap it around my neck
when you expect me to agree with you.

Silence is beautiful when it’s chosen.
But it’s a weapon when the truth hurts you,
when it shows you to yourself.
When it stings your eyes and you can’t blink.

Blink,
and the truth passes you by.

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