When I’m silent, don’t think that I don’t care.
Many times I keep quiet because I care so much.
I know that words, once spoken, can not be taken back.
And they matter: words can hurt or heal, sometimes both.
I don’t take this lightly.
When I’m silent, sometimes it’s because the story isn’t mine to tell.
Our stories are important, and I believe
That we each should have the space to tell our own truths,
Without stolen thunder, or words out of turn.
So I wait quietly.
When I’m silent, it’s because I’m made of simple clay
An earthen vessel, prone to imperfection
And I know – not every opinion needs to be aired
Nor every thought spoken.
Wisdom earned the hard way.
When I’m silent, don’t think I’m being weak
Or that I will never speak, because I will
When the time is right, when the words are ripe, when the story’s mine
I won’t hold back. And you may at that time wish
That I were silent.