Phases

i was born


in the shadow of a new moon—


silent,


but not because i had nothing to say

just


no way


to say it

like yelling underwater


everyone thinks you’re quiet


when really,


you’re choking


on words


that never learned to swim

waxing crescent


i watched others grow teeth


to bite into the world


while i swallowed silence


thick like fog


settling in my throat

they asked why i didn’t shine—


as if the moon doesn’t take


time


to learn how to reflect

first quarter


after enough small collisions


someone didn’t look through me—


they saw me

read the knots of held-back words


pressing in my chest


and didn’t untangle them too fast


they gave me


space


and a little light

waxing gibbous


i began to shape my feelings


into letters


that didn’t need air


to matter

my voice was quiet


but sure—


built in bursts of clicking keys


and soft returns

the beginning


of becoming

full moon


i stopped hiding


behind the silence

i chose this voice


this rhythm


the keyboard became


my favorite sound

a symphony


of everything i used to keep


inside

waning gibbous


my words traveled


past walls


past doubt


past distance

they reached people


i’ll never meet


and still


feel known by

last quarter


i looked back


not with shame


but pride

i was not voiceless


just waiting


for the right way


to be heard

waning crescent


now, i rest—


not in fear


not in hiding

but in knowing


i will bloom again

because new moons


are born in darkness


and still


become whole