Speak Louder

poetry

Photo by Max Harlynking on Unsplash

I feel the weight of unsaid things
resting on my chest,
heavy as rainclouds
about to burst.

I want to scream,
but the air catches in my throat,
a knot of thoughts
I can’t untangle long enough to let go.

Why do my words stumble?
Why do they whisper
when they want to roar?

They say the world belongs
to those who speak louder,
but I’m stuck here
with a voice too quiet to be heard
in a crowd that never listens.

So, I write —
my pen, the only sound
that understands the silence,
the only way I know
to speak louder
without breaking myself apart.

And maybe one day,
someone will hear
the echoes I left behind
in the spaces where my voice
was too soft to stay.