Words, They Always Win

I’ll be so fucking rude,

because softness never saved me.

You’ll twist my quiet into guilt,

call it proof that I don’t care.

Words, they always win,

but I know I’ll lose—

every argument ends

with me swallowing apologies

for things I didn’t do.

You speak like thunder,

and I break like glass.

My voice shakes,

so I let silence speak for me,

but even silence gets misheard.

I’m tired of explaining pain

to people who caused it.

Tired of pretending I’m fine

just so no one feels uncomfortable.

Maybe I’m the villain

in stories you tell to sleep at night,

but I know what it costs

to stay kind in a world

that only listens when you scream.

So tonight I’ll be loud,

I’ll be wrong,

I’ll be everything you said I shouldn’t—

and maybe then,

finally,

I’ll win something back.