No one could ever persuade me to be blamed
for someone else's silence.
everyone makes a choice to walk away,
afraid they will never find a way out
of the memories that keep us trapped.
The silence in my mind is busy
keeping secrets behind the mask,
but don't tell me I can't remain silent,
when I spent my entire life making sure
all of my voices were chased away.
It's my choice to keep my evidence
locked up in my own files,
you cannot invade my race to justice,
because if I do decide to cross that finish line,
I can guarantee that the prize will be mine alone to win.
You show up at my door uninvited,
trying to read between the lines of my answers
in order to gain what you need for your case.
You try and drag up past discussion and dirty secrets
that lately have been spreading far and wide.
Then when you realise that I am not a compromising victim,
you turn to the lowest form of psychology,
and try to guilt trip me instead.
You act like my silence becomes the only reason
that anyone else has ever suffered from his hands,
and that any future victim's blood will be on me.
How dare you show up at my door,
because your case is weak.
Your case is weak because the system is weak,
and people like you make survivors feel weak.
You knocked the wrong door,
you misjudged my mask by far,
I know my rights and I know my own strength,
and my silence is mine to own!
