The high road,

Is the only one she’s ever known,

The only one she was allowed to take,

Don’t break,

Keeps her smile fake,

Turn the other cheek,

Don’t speak.

He feelings are bottled up, at the back,

Of her mind,

And they want to rise,

And they want to be noticed,

But she can’t show emotion,

Beyond what’s permitted,

Not sound is emitted,

As she folds her hands in her lap.

Perfectly proper and prim,

Anything for him,

She thinks of when she used to have thoughts.

She’s almost forgotten,

The days when she could be,

Uncensored,

Untethered,

Long gone.

She is told anger never ends well,

She learns that somehow,

She is always to one to apologize,

Even when she is right,

There is something wrong with that.

There are letters missing,

From her words,

And they are on the tip of her tongue,

But her speech has been stolen.

When she exercises,

Her voice,

She is ostracized,

There is no choice,

Here.

She is outraged,

Enraged,

But she can’t say it out loud,

She buries her anger,

Deep, deep, down.

What does she do now?

There is always someone to break her,

Take her,

Down.

What does she do now?

The only voice she has ever been told she has is silent.