My sour throat

I clear my throat to find my voice, To speak the truth, to make a choice. But then the shadow starts to creep The promises they swore to keep. ​"We'll ruin you," the whisper echoes cold, A heavy chain that takes a hold. So I lock the words inside my chest, And let the quiet do the rest. ​But silence is a fragile shield, Where battles rage and casualties yield. They use the word that breaks my walls, A casual greeting as my courage falls. ​I crumble soft, without a sound, While happy footsteps walk around. A simple phrase to them, so light To me, the dark that steals the night.