Uninvited

The room is full

shoulders squared, smiles fixed, coffee cooling in trembling hands.

Everyone speaks in practiced tones,

circling the air like bees around a flame

without ever touching it.

But she sees it.

Not a person.

Not a ghost.

Just the shape of something true

the thing they’ve all agreed, silently,

not to name.

It sits in the center.

Uninvited.

Undeniable.

And she doesn’t look away.

She doesn’t smile.

She doesn’t fold her hands just so.

She doesn’t offer a bridge to make this easier.

Because someone has to be the one

who stays.

Who doesn’t flinch.

Who lets the silence stretch

until it breaks open

and truth spills out like light.

She is here because

sometimes truth must be nailed to the floor

and stared at

until someone finally dares

to name it.