Unspoken

Bottled up deep inside her are the debris of  a broken heart.
Hidden behind walls that protect her are her hearts unspoken words
Her insecurities lie under her skin, not visible to the naked eye.
She has weaved a blanket around her soul, safe from the cruel cold that hovers.
But is she really as safe as she thinks she is?
Or has she locked herself up along with the enemy?
Like a prisoner in her own land she struggles everyday to smile.
She looks like the moon of a still starlit night
but deep within brims turmoil and havoc at its height.
What has this being as pure as snow done to deserve this?
Should someone so pure at heart be put through this unrest?
Undeserving of it but surely she has brought this upon herself.
No one can fight your thick-skinned insecurities and enter your being.
No enemy or friend can break those walls from the outside.
When the weaver of this blanket holds it tight around her, no one can pull it away.
Except the weaver herself.....
Her saving grace is that tiny spark of hope left to feel free again.
To feel liberated from the choking atmosphere within her.
Her struggle will begin from a spark of knowing that freedom is achievable,
That the unspoken word, once thrown beyond these walls, will start a revolution,
That life will never be the same again, only once her word is spoken.