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.