In the quiet of the night, where shadows grow,
A heart beats softly, with wounds it doesn’t show.
Echoes linger, whispers faint but clear,
Of battles fought in silence, with no one near.

Eyes that smile yet hide the storm inside,
A soul that stumbles, though it strives to hide.
The weight of words unsaid, too heavy to bear,
Seeking solace in the spaces where one dares care.

Yet hope flickers in the darkest of places,
In the cracks and the corners of forgotten faces.
Resilience blooms, though buried in despair.
A voice, once silent, now rises in the air.

For every wound, a story waits to be told.
Of strength reborn from the ashes of old.
Silent echoes no longer stay unheard,
For in every whisper lies the power of a word.

I could feel the echoes echoing inside of me as I was writing the poem “Silent Echoes,” each one serving as a reminder of the problems I’ve kept hidden, even from the people closest to me. I’ve suffered greatly from the silence I’ve maintained out of fear of losing the love and understanding of people I care about. The profundity of those wordless wars, which I had waged alone in my heart and mind, appeared to be captured in every word I wrote.

Writing was an overwhelming process. The more I explored my feelings, the more I became aware of how much I had suppressed. These were unheard, unsaid, but profoundly felt tales of adversity, terror, and resiliency. I realized that even though I’ve been through a lot, sharing that load feels like the first step to getting well.

I discovered that these echoes don’t have to remain mute indefinitely after writing the poem, which allowed me to express feelings I had long suppressed. There is a way to improve, but it involves making myself heard, even when it is difficult. I gained an understanding of the value of empathy and connection as well as the necessity of embracing vulnerability to heal from this experience.

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