Mouth Shut

I wish that every word I said didn’t lead to disbelief. That once I open my mouth I’m shattered with my pain and grief. Why can’t I utter a word without every idea I provide be shot down and murdered in its prime? Don’t I hold the divine right to have a voice? As a woman, as a leader of tomorrow, as a human being? Don’t I have a choice to hold my own opinion? My words do not pierce the hearts of my audience as if they were my victims, for if they did I’d surely be aware of those intentions. My voice is quiet and timid in majority and comparison to those that shout above my own. They blast, and yell, and holler like it is a 24/7 at who can be the loudest. So what is the lesson I must learn? I am TOO different, therefore “the majority will strive,” just like father always said, and I must let myself be oppressed and not conform, but adapt to holding my tongue at least while they still see me as inexperienced and young. Forced to keep my mouth shut before I cause a war until I can release my voice behind my own closed door.