The Overflow

The Soft Witness

I say,
“It’s nothing.”
And hope it stays small.

But sometimes,
it spills.

Not a leak—
a flood,
rising in my chest
until my silence
becomes sound.

I learned to hold it in
so no one would worry,
so they wouldn’t see
what I barely understood myself.

Because if I name it,
I have to feel it.
And if I feel it,
maybe it won’t leave.

But it does.

Eventually.
Slowly.
Like a tide receding
after the storm.

And I’m still here.
Soft.
A little shaken.
But still here.

-The Soft Witness

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Comments +

Soman Ragavan May 29th, 2025 04:10
The very title is impressive : its is the overflow of emotions, of experiences rammed into us…
“The Stillness Between Notes...”
“until my silence
becomes sound....”
You have hit upon impactful words and expressions. It is the stillness between notes that add value to the notes. Otherwise it would be rambling sounds.
When silence becomes sound it is heard and felt by others.
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sorenbarrett May 29th, 2025 04:30
A poem that speaks of the power of emotion and its uncontrollable nature. Well worded it speaks to the reader of the irresistible urge that accompaniers it. A wonderful write.

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