I speak

I tried to speak up. I couldn't, they were all looking at me.

I tried to speak up. I couldn't, they were so loud.

I tried to speak up. I couldn't, they would judge me.

I tried to speak up. I couldn't, I was supposed to like sports, dogs, and fighting. I was supposed to be strong, loud, and brave.

I tried to speak up. I couldn't, I wasn't supposed to like clothes, cats, and loving. I wasn't supposed to be strong, loud, or brave.

I stopped trying.

I tried to speak up. I couldn't, my throat was dry. So I drank.

I tried to speak up. It hurt, but I spoke up. So I kept speaking.

I spoke. They listened, but they didn't understand. So I spoke more.

I spoke more. They listened, but they were surprised. So I gave them time.

I didn't speak. I couldn't, they would judge me.

I didn't speak. I couldn't, but I needed to. So I cried.

I cried and spoke. I was scared, but they listened. So I shared more.

I cried and screamed. I was terrified, but they embraced me. So I changed, and I grew.

I tried to speak up. I couldn't, they were all looking at me. So I waited, and I healed.

I tried to speak up. It hurt, but I spoke up. So I kept speaking, and I grew bolder.

I spoke. It still hurt, but I met others like me. So I spoke more, and I listened.

I spoke louder. They struggled to speak, but they liked when I did. So I spoke more, and they smiled.

I spoke louder. They smiled, but they worried. So I learned how to soothe them, and we healed.

I shouted. They cheered, but we needed guidance. So I pretended I knew what I was doing, and I led them.

I shouted and led. They followed, but we needed hope. So we spoke of our dreams, and we were strong, loud, and brave.

I stopped trying.

I shout and I lead. We march, but we need voices. I start to sing, and others join in.

If we sing, we roar.

If we roar, we win.