Why Are You So Quiet?

A question other students always asked me in school. I never had a clear answer for them. Never.

But nowadays, the answer would be like a loaded gun. I could tell you, but you'll probably die finding out.

I'm quiet because I developed an elaborate fantasy world to escape to, and people's needs are overwhelming and hard to deal with. The less I'm obligated to, the better.

I'm quiet because you'd never understand how dark my world is, and you'd escape if you knew.

I'm quiet because being a mute stopped the abuse. Being a mute means I cannot muster up the energy necessary to talk.

I'm quiet because I'm secretly planning world domination.

I'm quiet because you could not handle the real me. I'm more than handful to deal with. Loving me is the greatest risk yet the most wonderful blessing.

I'm quiet because I'm insecure yet I'm not really a people pleaser. People don't like my brutal honesty.

I'm quiet because I'm silently screaming.

I'm quiet because it was easier to fade into the background and to be forgotten.

I'm quiet because I don't see the world the same way.

I'm quiet because there's not much to say. Had no idea back then how to have conversations with most.

I'm quiet because I don't want you to get wrapped into my mess. I'm too toxic to endure, to get close to. I'll burn you before you burn me.

I'm quiet because I felt I had to protect myself from everyone. Because if anyone knew how deeply I was hurting.

I'm standing at the empty auditorium, no one clapping for me, no one ever knowing me without leaving.

My story will no longer be too dark to be told. I deserve what I gave to others so effortlessly, a quiet space to really listen to the pain of another without saying "you're triggering me."