I Disappeared

I’m loud because when I wasn’t noticed,

I disappeared.

The louder I am, the more attention I get—

and the more attention I get,

the quieter the screams become.

The darkness inside me softens,

just enough to breathe.

They ask, “Why are you the way that you are?”

“Why do you have to be so much?”

But maybe they’ve never known what it feels like

to be unseen—

to exist like air, present yet untouchable.

And for that, I’m glad for them.

They were given the gift of being loved quietly,

without having to earn it through

endless begging,

suffering,

or silence.

They received warmth without asking,

and acts of care without condition.

I pray there’s never another soul

woven from my DNA

who must learn love through survival.

They deserve to be happy—

to love freely,

without the burden of self-hate or guessing.

So I’ll bear the weight of healing.

I’ll do the therapy,

face the shadows,

rewrite the patterns—

so that my loves

will never have to heal

from my presence.