i'm going to tell you a story
about the girl who carved novels
into her wrists
because she struggled to find
the right words to say.
she would often find herself choking
on misplaced syllables
and unexpected vowels.
you see,
the lump in her throat
is all the words she'd wished she'd said
trying to claw their way out of her.
the lump in her throat isn't a can't,
it's a won't.
so when you ask her why she doesn't speak
it's not because she lacks the ability
to form rational thoughts
and coherent sentences.
it is because she finds no struggle in her silence.
and when you ask her what's wrong,
she'll say nothing.
but if you're lucky,
she might roll up her sleeves
revealing what had been known
only to her.
and maybe you won't know what to say
and that's alright.
but don't just tell her to stop.
that's like telling someone
not to jump
when their toes are already curled around the ledge.
instead, acknowledge that what she's feeling is real
and be her voice when she can't find the words.
j.c.