The words were stones I swallowed, one by one,
A silent quarry buried in my chest.
My truth was hidden from the light and sun,
A fragile bird that never left the nest.
I learned the art of nodding, of the smile,
A placid surface on a churning sea.
I’d let the silence linger for a while,
And lose another little piece of me.

But something in the quiet finally broke,
A final weight I couldn’t bear to hold.
A sleeping giant in my spirit woke,
A story far too precious to leave untold.
It wasn’t rage, it wasn’t born of spite,
But a calm knowledge, steady, deep, and true:
I had a right to stand within my light,
And my own voice deserved to travel through.

The first word caught, a tremor in the sound,
Then found its footing, resonant and clear.
I felt my feet sink solid in the ground,
And watched my long-held hesitation disappear.
The thoughts I’d caged for years came rushing out,
Not as a scream, but as a steady rain,
Washing away the fear, the shame, the doubt,
And breaking every link upon the chain.

I spoke of lines you’d crossed with casual ease,
Of feelings discounted and pushed aside.
I didn’t ask, I didn’t say my “please,”
I simply stated what I felt inside.
The air was thick, your face a strange new sight,
As if you’d met a stranger in my place.
And in that moment, bathed in honest light,
I finally owned my story and my space.

The world did not collapse, the sky still held,
But in my soul, a universe had changed.
The stifled narrative was now propelled,
The pieces of myself rearranged.
This voice is mine, though it may sometimes shake,
It’s learning now the music of its song.
And for my own heart’s weary, precious sake,
It’s where my truth belonged and will belong.

More works by Nancy Ann Creed

https://books2read.com/u/bMMWnk