They Think I Don’t Want to Talk

I’ve been holding this for a long time.
For anyone who’s ever been told they disappeared, when really, they were just waiting for someone who could stay.

They think I don’t want to talk.
That I don’t reach out.
That I’ve gone quiet because I’m distant, or cold, or uninterested.

But I’ve never stopped craving connection.
I’ve just stopped expecting depth
from people who only wade in the shallow end.

It’s not that I don’t speak.
It’s that when I do,
it’s too much for most humans to hold.

So I’ve learned to speak less.
To say only what won’t scare them.
To shrink the truth until it fits in their comfort.

And now I live in the quiet
they left me in…
lonely,
but not because I want to be alone.

Only because I want to be heard,
and most humans
never stay long enough
to listen.