A Soft Tone - Poem

In the quiet of the night, I hear
a voice that’s not a whisper, but a spear.
Not words of love, not hands to hold—
but storms that rage, both sharp and cold.

You were the roof above my head,
yet thunder shook the floors instead.
hands meant to protect
became the ones I learned to dread.

The bruises faded from my skin,
but echoes stayed deep locked within.
Each shout, each slap, each cruel demand
still trembles through my trembling hands.

I smiled at school, I played the part,
but silence screamed inside my heart.
No bedtime tales, no gentle kiss—
just broken glass and love amiss.

You taught me fear in every glance,
that love can come without a chance.
You taught me pain in every blow,
and how to hide what others don’t know.

Yet here I stand—still breathing air,
still rising from that old despair.
I bear the scars, I know the cost,
but I am not forever lost.

One day, the mirror will reflect
a soul you couldn’t disconnect.
And when I walk, I’ll walk away—
toward the dawn, beyond your grey.