Silence Is Not My Name

A Poem about a woman who speaks in softened tones and watches her words fall gently, unheard I see you. Not the version the world overlooks, not the silence they mistake for absence, but the storm you swallow each time you choose peace over being dismissed again. You are not quiet you are restrained thunder, a symphony paused mid-note, a story waiting for someone patient enough to listen beyond the surface of your stillness. They call you “too much” when you finally rise, yet never question how much you had to hold just to remain gentle. Your voice was never small only placed in rooms too loud with indifference. But listen There will come a day when your words no longer ask permission, when your truth stands firm without trembling at the edge of doubt, when you realize you were never meant to be easily understood only deeply felt. And on that day, you won’t just be heard you will echo.