I was young enough
to believe silence
could save me.
That if I didn't move,
didn't cry out,
the world would stay whole.
So I let it happen,
again and again,
as if stillness were armor,
as if I could hold
the breaking inside.
No one tells a child
that a body remembers
everything.
A lifetime later,
I'm still trying
to forgive that small girl
who mistook her fear
for strength,
and silence
for survival.
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