I WAS THERE, I THINK

i wasn't quiet because i had nothing to say.

i was quiet because they taught me that silence was survival.

smile.

nod.

don't take up space.

don't cry too loud.

don't bleed where they can see you.

i bit my tongue until it bled obedience.

clapped for men who stole my words and sold them back to me with their names on top.

i worked twice as hard to be spoken over politely.

i laughed when they said my anger wasn't useful.

they built towers on the backs of girls like me
and called it success.

called it merit.

called it a system.

and still— they ask me why i'm so loud now.

why i will not calm down.

why i'm not grateful.

i should have screamed sooner.

i should have spat fire instead of swallowing it.

i should have broken every quiet rule they built into my spine.

but i'm here now.

louder than ever.

and if i burn— at least it's mine.

at least they'll see the smoke.

and maybe this time, they'll choke on it.