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PAIN: THE LOUDNESS OF ITS SILENCE
<p><br/></p><p>Pain…</p><p>Not the kind that bleeds.</p><p>Not the kind that bruises the skin or fractures bone.</p><p>Those are mercies—visible, measurable, destined to heal.</p><p>No…</p><p>I speak of the kind that festers in silence.</p><p>A feeling so familiar, yet so formless—</p><p>like a shadow you cannot outrun,</p><p>like a whisper that never quite fades.</p><p>Tell me…</p><p>do you know pain?</p><p>Have you ever truly met it?</p><p>Have you been awakened in the dead of night,</p><p>not by noise—</p><p>but by a thought…</p><p>a memory…</p><p>a truth so cruel it claws at your chest</p><p>until breathing itself feels like betrayal?</p><p>Have you watched the darkness stretch across your ceiling</p><p>as sleep abandons you,</p><p>yet morning still demands your presence—</p><p>forcing you to wear a borrowed smile</p><p>over a collapsing soul?</p><p>Have you stood at the edge of your own memories,</p><p>afraid to let go—</p><p>because forgetting feels like a second death?</p><p>Have you drowned in guilt so deep</p><p>that the earth beneath your feet</p><p>felt like it was calling you home—</p><p>six feet down,</p><p>where silence finally answers back?</p><p>This…</p><p>this is pain.</p><p>Not loud.</p><p>Not seen.</p><p>But relentless.</p><p>It lingers in the quiet,</p><p>it breathes in the spaces between your thoughts,</p><p>it survives—even when you pretend you do.</p><p>So I ask again…</p><p>Have you felt it?</p><p>Do you know pain?</p><p>—or has it been knowing you all along?</p><p>Written by</p><p>The Silent Pen ✍🏾</p>
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