The Silent Armor

There is a kind of strength the world won’t name, A silent war that carries little fame, No shattered glass, no scars for eyes to trace— Just steady breath behind a guarded face. You learn to wear the calm like it is skin, To lock the trembling, fragile pieces in, To stand unshaken in the howling storm, And make the chaos feel almost… the norm. They do not see the weight you’ve come to bear, The careful way you ration out your care, How every word you swallow, every plea, Becomes the spine of who you choose to be. And still—you rise, not hardened, but aware, That pain can shape you without leaving you bare, That even masked, your truth is burning through, Not loud—but constant… steady… deeply you. So let them think the storm has passed you by, Let them believe you never learned to cry, For there’s a quiet victory in this— To feel it all… and still choose steadiness.