Quiet Ain’t peace

Back in Washington, rain hit the glass Grandpa made stew, said the hard part had passed I had a bed and a room of my own But I still slept dressed, like I might have to go He stirred the pot, didn't say much Just passed the bread with a working man's touch The house didn’t yell, but it didn’t feel mine I ate slow, watched the hands on the clock unwind Quiet ain’t peace, and clean ain’t whole A roof don’t erase what the past stole They said I was safe, they said I was free But there’s bars you can’t see when they’re built into me Quiet ain’t peace—just a pause in the w*r With a lock on my door that don’t mean no mor Church on Sundays, boots two sizes big I learned to nod, to smile, to rig A version of me that fit in their frame But deep in my chest, I still felt the flame I spoke with silence, they answered with chores Raked up the leaves, scrubbed out the floors Good boy mask, tight as skin But inside I still ran, again and again Quiet ain’t peace, and calm ain’t clear Sometimes the silence is the thing you fear They said I was lucky, said I got out But you don’t just forget what your life’s been about Quiet ain’t peace—just a softer kind of storm Where the fire’s gone cold but the ashes are warm