Whispers of the Soul

SA

The No That Wasn't Heard

I whispered a no, soft as a sigh,
Yet it echoed in silence, lost in the night,
A fragile boundary drawn in the dark,
But you stepped over with disregard and might.

In a room full of shadows, your hands reached for me,
But my words fell like leaves in an unfeeling breeze,
I felt like a ghost, my voice drowned in your will,
Each plea I offered a tremor, a chill.

You saw my hesitation, the flicker of fear,
But to you, it was nothing, just noise in your ear,
As if my refusal was merely a game,
A challenge to conquer, a spark to inflame.

I wanted to scream, to break through the haze,
To shatter the silence that trapped me in maze,
But the weight of your presence pressed heavy and strong,
And I felt my own truth twisting into the wrong.

Each moment that passed felt heavy with dread,
As I fought against whispers that filled me with lead,
Why couldn't you hear me? Why didn't you see?
The power of "no" that was buried in me.

It lingers like thunder, a storm in my chest,
A reminder of boundaries that crumbled, unblessed,
And the aftermath echoes, a wound yet to heal,
The frustration of silence, the weight of conceal.

Consent is a fortress, built strong with respect,
A promise to listen, a bond to protect,
Yet my voice, like a candle, flickered and waned,
In the shadow of actions that left me stained.

So I stand here, trembling, reclaiming my right,
To speak for the voiceless, to bring forth the light,
For every "no" matters, it's a shield, it's a plea,
A declaration of power—listen, hear me.

I'll amplify whispers, give strength to the weak,
To break through the silence, the silence that speaks,
For no longer will I let my truth be unheard,
I'll rise with my "no," let my voice be the word.