Ask me how I feel.

Silence.

I say nothing because I'm TRYING to tell you HOW I FEEL.

Nothing.

Nothing.

You move forward, leaving my silence behind as if it's a familiar past time to do so, irrelevant and decayed.

I want to ask for help, but I cannot find the words, choked from these lungs, starved and dying.

Don't let my exterior fool you! I am bitter. I am sad. And I am ANGRY inside.

It is in our choices we define who we are. I CHOOSE to suffer alone. I CHOOSE to be silent. I want to believe its more honorable this way. Suffer silently because you don't have the right to burden others with this pain. Deal with your own demons. Say nothing. Nothing. Silence.

Pretty words and constructed silence are useless. But what can I really say?

That there is PAIN in this heart and YOU CANNOT HELP ME? You cannot help me. You. Can't. Help. Me.

I just want to FEEL something again.

Silence.

Because you will judge me.

You're judging me right now.

And so I say nothing.

Will this ever be more than a series of ramblings?

Ramblings exhumed from the place inside me I keep locked up so tight I'm suffocating myself...

I'm suffocating myself.