The Girl Who Carried Silence

The Girl Who Carried Silence She never screamed not because it didn’t hurt, but because silence felt safer than explaining the weight of her pain. They saw her laugh, not knowing each giggle was a carefully folded bandage over bleeding memories. At night, she stitched herself with poems and prayers, tucked her fears beneath her pillow, and dared to dream of peace. The world asked her to be okay to rise without the mess, to smile without remembering. But she is not performance. She is survival. She is the crack in the wall where sunlight still finds its way in. She is poetry wrapped in scar tissue, grace inside grief. And when she says, I’m fine, listen closer. That’s bravery masquerading as quiet. — J.U✍️🖤