I want to shout, I want to scream But as deep as I dig, I don’t seem to have it in me All these thoughts, racing through my head Ache to be heard above the noise of the crowd But A lifetime of hiding and making myself small Has shrunk my voice to invisibility My voice doesn’t have a volume control My frustration constrained to the words on a page. But I swear once again, this is the time I will let it all out I’ll stop making everyone else’s comfort a priority Cease implying my discomfort doesn’t matter Or that it isn’t really as serious as it is. But Soon the inevitable question arrives, how are you? As always, it elicits the predictable response. “It could be better, it definitely could be worse.” Said with a half-smile, to comfort them, yet so painful in fact But My words, soaked in tears and swallowed whole Shine no light on this transparent charade Until a way is found to exorcise this perpetual denial I’m left the mute owner of a silent scream.