I have a talent that not all can say they do.
Not God-given,
Or even special, really.
More of a skill, a trick taught in the darkness.
The one that suddenly appears
After nights of trying to bat away
the curled talons that inch my traitors forward.
My traitors.
How dare they betray me,
How dare they fall in love with the hand that says will give them all,
And leave me shaking,
In the bitter, dark, coldness of my room.
I have a talent that not all can say they do:
I’ve learned how to stay silent
When even my heart gives out,
And leaks its sorrows,
Staining my cheeks.
I’ve learned how to silence the pounding words in my head,
The profanities I never got to shout.
I’ve learned how to silence the grief that comes in toppling waves,
Because being in numbers is being stronger.
I’ve learned how to silence the ever-growing sorrow and grief,
That attacks in the dead of night,
With a jab at your heart
and a buzz in your head.
Never leaves,
Yet not always present.
But here I am,
Here I still stand,
Silenced and surviving.