We weren’t born to be quiet.
We were born to name the stars,
to howl at a fractured moon
when the night closes in.
Fear does not march in strength.
It flails, desperate and wild,
clutched by brittle hands
that fear losing their hold.
Silence may be golden at times,
complicit at others.
Every stifled cry feeds the walls,
each swallowed word drives roots deeper.
The longer we hush ourselves,
the heavier the weight becomes.
The Truth About Tigers 
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