I want to go home.
But they won’t let me.
My voice feels too small for them to hear. My words, my wishes, my truth—it all gets brushed aside like it never mattered. Like I don’t matter.
They say they know what’s best for me.
They make decisions in boardrooms, in courtrooms, behind closed doors—while I’m left waiting in the silence, unheard.
But how can they claim to know what’s best
when the only time they ask what he wants,
it’s done in a way that tricks him?
In a way that lets them twist his words,
reshape his answers,
turn his truth into something easier for them to ignore.
They don’t listen to hear.
They listen to control the story.
I want to go home. To safety. To comfort. To the version of life where I’m not just a file or a case number.
But in this system, wanting isn’t enough.
And until someone listens, really listens, I’ll keep saying it:
I want to go home.
~ The Girl Speaks
thegirlspeaks.uk 