Silence

I know my quietness is seen, And in that silence, you find your ground, It's not a choice, but a way of being, In places where my voice made no sound. Sometimes I wonder if kindness and hush Are curses wrapped in gentle guise, For though they seem to be virtues bright, They leave wounds hidden from prying eyes. You know I cannot talk back, So you press and corner me tight, Ask questions you know I can't deflect, Why do you seek my silence to fight? I can’t ask, yet you demand to hear, The things I need, laid bare and true, Why must I list what you already know? Isn’t it your duty to provide what’s due? Did I ever cry for the chance to be born? No choice was mine, no plea to be seen, So why must I ask for peace and calm, For a life of health and unburdened? I suffer for crimes I never knew, For shadows of faults I can't explain, When I speak, my voice is met with scorn, And my words are twisted, causing me pain. You wish I break from silence, yet when I do, To express the hurt you never see, You complain of disrespect and harsh tone, Yet you wield words that shatter me. So why this cruelty veiled as care? Why this harshness that breaks my soul? In my quiet,