A Silence

You bite with words you don’t remember,

but I taste the blood for weeks.

You laugh like nothing happened,

while my lungs learn to drown in the quiet.

I move like glass

cracked, bending light,

still standing, still shining, still lying.

You never ask why my voice shakes,

why my hands curl into fists beneath the table.

I swallow screams like bitter pills,

grind my teeth around the truth.

It lodges in my throat like a swallowed key,

rusting, useless, choking me.

And you? You sleep easy.

You wake without weights on your chest.

You don’t count seconds, don’t feel them

drag like chains around my ankles.

One day, I’ll forget how to keep breathing.

One day, you’ll turn to speak,

but there will be no one left to answer.