they say the tings that finally break you,
are the words caught in your throat,
and she has years of thoughts not uttered
crammed in the pockets of her coat,
a whisperer amongst a world
that's learnt only to speak,
where silence must be broken
for the proof that it is weak.
but wherein lies the weakness
of keeping words held in your hand?
when others listen to reply,
she listens just to understand.
surely it's strength when things unspoken
fill the room up to the brim,
and she's the only one among them,
who has taught herself to swim.
/
