The Silence I Swallow

You and I our spirits entwine You and I our hearts divine

Monologue:

There are words that live in my throat—words that rise, then retreat before they can break the surface. I swallow them down, feeling their weight settle deep inside. Some silences taste bitter, laced with things I should have said. Others are sweet with secrets I choose to keep. I’ve become an expert at holding back, choosing safety over exposure. My silence is a shield, a prison, a companion I both cherish and resent. It keeps me small. It keeps me safe. But lately I wonder: what if I stopped swallowing? What if I let just one word escape? The silence I swallow is my burden. But perhaps, one day, it will also be my voice.