The Inner Room
by Crystal Craig

The vibrations of private thoughts
swirl around the room—
and I keep my eyes squeezed shut.

I cannot bear the weight
of being seen
so fully.

Not yet.

My words—
once sacred scribbles in solitude—
are now rising
from someone else’s voice,

clear,
measured,
reverent.

Every syllable honored.
Every pause, exact.

And still,
I hide behind my practiced smile,
heart trembling beneath the armor.

Tears hover.
Not from pain,
not quite from joy—

but from the strange beauty
of being witnessed.

My spirit
startles at the sound
of its own truth,
echoed back
in a room full of bodies
that suddenly feel
like kin.

I wait in the hush,
inside the dark behind my lids,
as each verse unfolds—

calling me
out of safety
and into rhythm.

The poem ends.

The music begins.

And something in me breaks open.

I move.
Not because I should—
but because I must.

Smiling now,
held by the gravity
of this sacred orbit—
a circle of souls
unfurling,
welcoming,
real.

Eyes meet mine.
Honest.
Unafraid.

I am seen.
I am still standing.

And something in me
shifts forever.

Within this inner room,
at last—

there is safety.

Not the safety of hiding.
The safety of being.