Sometimes, I suppose I'm happy.
Like when I'm with my friends,
throwing my head back and covering my mouth
as I shake with laughter at a joke someone just made.
But then, day turns to night,
and my carefree grin turns into
unexplainable sadness etched on my face like a tattoo.
And I lay in bed, thinking about all the things I wish I could say -
all the things I'm too afraid to admit,
even with only a pen, paper and my mind.
It's nights like these when I realize:
I am many things.
I am happy but still sad,
outgoing but at the same time, shy,
a quiet exterior with a rambunctious wildfire in the inside.
But mostly,
I am just empty.
YOU ARE READING
The Things I'll Never Get To Say
Randomwe spend hours looking through quotes to find the words we can never say. published: 10.30.18
