Silence taped to my mouth

By Ryan Montgomery

I was twelve years old, silence taped to my mouth,
House full of shadows, couldn’t figure a way out.
She wore a smile like it couldn’t do harm,
But monsters don’t always look like alarms.
Daddy knew the truth but he buried it deep,
Chose his comfort over promises he should keep.
Instead of protection, he handed me chains,
Let the system raise me, cell bars and pain.
Told the world I was crazy, told courts I was wrong,
While she wrote letters like she’d done nothing at all.
Gaslight scriptures, rewriting my youth,
Locked me away just to bury the truth.
Now she’s gone, earth cold where her secrets lie,
No confession, no sorry, no reason why.
He’s still breathing but the house stays empty,
Funny how karma don’t rush—but she’s steady.
I grew up in the fire you thought would erase me,
Turned trauma to armor, you couldn’t break me.
I survived what you hid, what you lied to defend,
I’m still standing—this is not how I end.
So this ain’t revenge, it’s reclaiming my name,
Speaking the truth even if it brings shame.
You tried to erase me, rewrite my story,
But I’m grown now—alive—and that’s the glory.