Voiceless

“I’m voiceless,”

You say to the pitch-black night sky.

“I feel like I have no power.”

The blanket is pulled tighter around your shoulders.

The cold wind whips past me,

Hair falling into my eyes as I shiver in my leather jacket.

“This world is cruel and dark,”

I tell you, lips chapped and eyes watering as I tilt my head back.

I say that not to comfort you because,

Let’s be honest here,

It takes strength to be good in this world.

People say to be gentle is to be weak,

But I disagree:

Only the strongest know what it means to be truly kind.

“However, you, my dear, are not voiceless.

You have words that need to be screamed from the depths of your stomach

As the hands of this world try to wrap around your vocal cords,

Hoping to strangle you into silence.

But you shouldn’t let them silence you.

No, you should slaughter them with your words.

Whoever said that the pen is mightier than the sword was right:

Language is a weapon.”

You shiver,

But I know it isn’t from the cold.

Then your lips twist into a smile.

“Maybe I don’t have a voice,

But a scream.”

_______________

Originally penned March 4, 2020; completed June 18, 2020.