The Art Of My Silence

I do not erupt at the slightest flame,
I watch in silence, remembering every name.
I enter a room with a soul that can see,
What others overlook is a language to me.

I study the details, the gestures, the tone,
The truths that emerge when you think you're alone.
While others see moments, I see the design,
The cracks in your character, the flaws in your line.

Do not mistake calm for a spirit that's weak,
Nor silence for something too timid to speak.
I may let you finish, I may let you proceed,
But I notice the truth in the smallest of deeds.

I despise the arrogance dressed up as pride,
The cruelty of those who look down from on high.
The ones who feel powerful by making others small,
Forget that true greatness shows kindness to all.

I notice your pauses, your glances, your eyes,
The truth in your gestures, the mask in your lies.
I hear what you hide in the words that you choose,
And see what you risk every time you abuse.

I grow tired of giving where nothing is returned,
Of lessons repeated and bridges I've burned.
Of offering respect where contempt takes its place,
Of extending my hand to a heart without grace.

I grow distant when my time is abused,
When my efforts are wasted, my kindness misused.
When boundaries are crossed and my peace is denied,
I stop pleading for respect and step out of the tide.

I close certain doors without making a sound,
I reclaim all the pieces of me you ran down.
No dramatic farewell, no desperate appeal,
Just a heart that has learned what it no longer will feel.

You may still see a smile when our path intertwine,
But a smile is not proof that your place is still mine.
I can greet you with grace, let old bitterness cease,
Yet never again grant you access to my peace.

You may stand in the doorway of all that I knew,
But the home that was open is no longer for you.
Remember this well, for it speaks to my core,
Respect is not earned by a title or door.

It belongs to the humble, the honest, the kind,
To the souls who see worth where the world has gone blind.
I judge not your fortune, your status, your name,
But how you treat others when there's nothing to gain.

For power without kindness is hollow and cold,
And a cruel heart is poor, no matter its gold.
You may own grand possessions, command every room,
But arrogance plants its own seeds of doom.

For the crown on your head cannot make you refined,
If you trample on others to feel you're divine.
And once I lose respect for the person you show,
No influence on earth can persuade me to grow.

For the quietest woman may see through it all,
And the softest of footsteps can end it all.
I do not explode, I observe and decide,
I let truth be my compass, and dignity my guide.

I have learned that not everyone deserves a place,
And not every connection deserves a second grace.
I am not here to threaten, to punish, or fight,
I am here to protect what I've guarded with might.

When I stop explaining, stop reaching, stop trying,
Know that something within me has finished its crying.

For I can forgive you without letting you stay,
I can wish you no harm and still walk away.
I can leave you no hatred, no curse, no collision,
Just the calm, final weight of a woman's decision.

And if you wonder when I finally depart,
It is not always in anger; sometimes it's the heart
That has carried too much, that has seen enough,
That chooses its peace when the world becomes rough.

I am Gee the Rhapsodist, composed in my flame,
A woman of depth who needs no acclaim.
I turn pain into poetry, silence to art,
And leave every ending with grace in my heart.

I do not need the last word to make my position.
I do not need to be loud to make my decision.
Let the world misunderstand me,let them form their own vision.

For sometimes, my silence
is not the absence of a reply
It is the final line
of a story
I have chosen
to leave behind.