The Loudest Silence

Some truths don’t escape through the mouth—they escape through the eyes.

by Susmita

You asked me,

“Are you okay?”

And I nodded—

As I was too tired to lie again.

Again you asked,

“Are you okay??”

And I said yes—

Like I said a thousand times before.

You said,

“Talk to me.”

And I wanted to.

Trust me, I did.

But what can I do—

If my words get clogged in the throat?

They are tired as well.

There are too many winters without spring.

So, you said,

“Why don’t you say anything?”

As if the silence wasn’t screaming.

So it’s the time to break it.

I trained my voice to lie smoothly.

My body learned the lie,

My mouth became fluent.

But what about my eyes?

My eyes were louder,

Than any words I had ever spoken.

They flinched in a second—

As they never learned to lie.

My laughter says,

“I am fine”

But my eyes say,

“I haven’t slept for weeks.”

 For once, you asked,

“What’s wrong?”

And I just looked away—

Because this time, the truth felt close.

And that day—

You didn’t ask again,

You just looked a little longer.

And that was enough.