On Being Misunderstood

Being misunderstood
cost me people I kept.
Not loudly.
Predictably.
Through what went unsaid.

I stopped tempering language
to stabilize peace.
Stopped anticipating fractures
before they could speak.

I stopped annotating myself
for comfort or ease.
Stopped negotiating meaning
with those needing me to agree.

When understanding thinned,
precision became the test.
Affection revealed
its tolerance for depth.

Misunderstanding narrowed the room.
Some left. Some stayed.
Questions went quiet.
Attribution outweighed.

Assumptions replaced listening.
Certainty closed the door.
Attachment required constraint
I would not perform anymore.

I spoke less.
I meant more.
Absence completed
what explanation ignored.

Being misunderstood
did not fracture me whole.
It resolved the difference
between intimacy and control.