Because The Voice Breaks

I am in pain.

Not the kind that shows in bruises

but the kind that makes your chest ache

even when you're just sitting still.

I try to speak, but the words feel too heavy.

They sit like stones in my mouth.

So I stay quiet.

Even when someone asks,

even when I want to scream—

I say “I’m fine.”

Because how do you explain

a void that doesn’t have a shape?

There is no one who truly sees me.

No-one to truly understand.

They are all to judge and point out.

They talk to the version of me I’ve learned to wear.

The one that nods. Smiles.

Passes through life like it’s not burning underneath.

I cry all the time.

In silence.

In bathrooms.

In the middle of writing a sentence.

Sometimes I don’t even notice it’s started

until I feel the wet on my skin.

It feels like I'm locked in a room with no windows.

Not even a crack under the door.

Just this constant weight pressing down,

Thinking all day long, I cannot say a word.

Tears are the only form of expression I have,

Kindness is all I long.

And I hate that I feel this alone

in a world so full of people.

It makes me feel invisible

and somehow too much at the same time.

I don’t know how to ask for help

without sounding like I’m falling apart.

Maybe I already am.

I'm here.

Writing. Crying. Breathing.