She raised her voice,
but mine was trembling—
not because I was wrong,
but because I’ve been silenced too long.
I wanted something small,
a choice, a care, a breath—
but thunder came instead
and wrapped my heart in dread.
I am not a threat
for asking to feel whole.
My wish was not rebellion—
just the tending of my soul.
Even when they don’t hear me,
even when fear is loud,
I hold a quiet knowing:
I am allowed.
Someday I’ll walk freely,
without needing to explain,
and the soft yes I whispered
will echo after rain.
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