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Held
it’s just a thought.One small idea.Barely formed. Something I swallowbecause it’s easierthan explaining again. It sits behind the teeth.Under the tongue.Polite.Contained. I tell myself:“It’s almost time.”That the silence will stop.That waitingdoesn’t cost anything. The world lovesthis version of me.The quiet one.The reasonable one.The one who understandsthe process. So I wait. And while I waitthe voice doesn’t disappear –it presses. It becomes a weight in the chest.Tightness.A currentlooking for a way through. Because a voicecannot be pausedwithout consequence. What happens insteadis that it flows inward.Every unspoken wordadds pressure.Every delayed answerraises the waterline. Still,they don’t hear it. They say I’m calm.They say I’m coping.They saynothing looks wrong. They mistake restraintfor consent. But…
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Llais
Beth yw llais os na chaiff ei glywed?Sibrwd coll, gair a beidiodd.Ei glywed ble? Gartref, ar lwyfan, yn y dorf?Neu unman—yn adleisio’n gorff? Clywn lawer llais o’n hamgylch ni—Rhieni, brodyr, teulu’n cri.Doethineb neiniau, ffrindiau’n rhydd,Ond beth am leisiau sydd â grym? Athrawon, meddygon, a’r heddlu glas—A ydym yn gwrando? Neu’n troi’n mas?A ydym yn gweld eu geiriau’n glir,Neu’n gadael iddynt fynd i’r gwynt yn rhydd? A beth am arweinwyr, uchel eu gradd—Cynghorwyr, gweinidogion, llawn rhagrith a thrach?Siarad am doriadau, cwyno am wlad,Ond a glywant ein lleisiau ni o gwbl erioed? Pryd mae llais yn peidio â bod?Pan fo’n sgript, yn syniad ffôl.Dadleuon gwag, yr un hen stori,Yr un hen sain,…
