and I stay quiet
Somewhere along the way I’ve learned not to say a word.
That my voice falls unworthy on holy ears and my truth is unwelcome in its need.
That it is bothersome and requires too much. Its presence leaving a thick trail of requirements in its wake.
Requirements that never wish to be fulfilled. a burden and a weight that ultimately gets dropped behind a fleeing soul that does not want to carry any additional pressure.
And so I pick it back up, placing it quickly back into my shoulder bag, ridden with guilt and shame over having shared a need that was mine to bear.
hoping I would learn this time. Until I don’t again.
But until I don’t, I stay quiet.