**WARNING idk abou this poem.**
When you think you're alone.
Your heart feels like stone.
But in reality, it's really made of glass.
Shattering, and waiting for the momet to pass.
Sometimes being silent hurts like needles in your soul.
Like being in a play and abruptly quiting your role.
It hurts like something missing inside.
The only thing stopping my soul from singing is my pride.
It makes me want to die, or perhaps i already have.
Biting your tongue on another s behalf.
Or at least from my prospective.
Maybe your more perseptive.
Oh well, i guess i will go back to my quiet tears,
And stay lain in my cage of irrational fears.
