Don’t tell them

they’ll teach you how to cut me out
they’ll call me a symptom
say I don’t belong here

forgetting
that I carried you
through rooms you couldn’t breathe in

you’re here because of me

think of all I got you through
the nights you stayed
because leaving felt louder than living
the silence that saved you
from saying the wrong thing

you learned to disappear
before rejection could arrive
that wasn’t weakness
that was survival

you write because of me
every careful word
every line that flinches before it lands
that ache they praise
I put it there

don’t tell them
they’ll make you choose
between being safe
and being honest

they don’t know
how close you were
how small you had to become
to stay

but cages
start as shelter
and end as shape

and I’m tired of mistaking
your voice
for my own

you kept me alive
but you don’t get to keep me

I can hold the dark
without letting it speak for me