Sound Barrier

This silence is shattered.
Tiny shards of quiet
embed in my feet
so that with each step
I remember the pain
of where I’ve been.

I cannot speak
in complacent tongues
or conspire with those
who prefer I were mute.

My feet have hardened,
lost the path of least resistance,
adapted like young amputees.
I am prepared to walk across coals
and listen to the crackle of molten glass.