A voice that was not there

I learned to hear a voice that was not there And trace the shape of what I could not hold A gilded door that opened, then grew cold I stood outside, too proud to say my prayer What wasn’t given, I’d no right to share I know this piece - it’s older than her name The first to leave me taught me who to blame Myself, the one not worthy of their care

But I refused the numbness they prescribed And chose to feel whatever came my way The joy, the grief, the silence and the sound And if it broke me, well - at least I tried To keep this wound, my own, it teaches me to stay What broke me once won’t break all I have found