the silence in their heads

d a r k n e s s

"life's but a walking shadow; a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

― william shakespeare, macbeth

do you see that boy in the middle row of that big classroom?

the one that everyone thinks has the average friends,
average grades,
average participation,
average life.
his life is beyond complicated.
it's another world.
there are two sides of him,
but only one side is shown.
the other is hidden in the shadows,
a darker part of his spilt personality
lurking underneath his soul.
he's a well known boy in the school,
he isn't popular, yet he isn't outcasted aside.
he's just average as everyone thinks.
he seems happy and fine on the outside;
he smiles genuinely to people,
he is able to eat and walk properly,
and doesn't raise his voice at school.
yet do you really know?
the smiles he gives out never reach his eyes,
as the colour had faded away a long time ago.
he might be able to eat but it's slowly killing him on the inside.
he looks like he's healthy because he can walk properly,
but every night,
he barely gets an ounce of sleep,
as he tosses and turns from the dreams he calls nightmares.
he doesn't raise his voice,
because his voice is so soft,
from the whispers and cries each night that haunt him.
the world only sees one side of him,
the one that is surrounded by layers,
and layers of shields for protection,
because the other is too opaque.
he's concealed within the darkness,
and he can't break free.
you can see in class he grips his pencil really tight,
his knuckles turn white,
his mind elsewhere,
and posture stiff,
as sweat drips from his forehead.
you can tell he's scared,
but of what?
the answer is quite simple.
he's scared of himself.