New Hurricanes – 9th September 2025

You stop crying and they call you strong.
The dead assemble to mourn your breathing.
A new hell found to which you don’t belong:
Four walls surround without any way of leaving.

You stop asking and they call it growth,
Answers never satisfied with real meaning.
Every new facade demands an oath
As a reward to calm the screaming.

You stop speaking and they call it peace,
Yet their ever-present chatter remains.
New, fresh faces mean they will never cease
To encircle you with their hurricanes.

They don’t want you whole,
Best conquered and divided;
They want you manageable
In the maze they have provided;
And that starts with getting quiet.

This is inspired by and uses text from the author’s note of Shain’s post Quiet Enough To Keep