There is a sound that no one hears-
a silence stretched too thin,
buzzing beneath the skin
like something about to break.

You sit in a room filled with stillness,
yet your chest tightens
as if someone is shouting
through every crack in your soul.

No one asks.
No one notices.
The smile you wear is practiced,
polished,
hollow.

Inside,the noise is relentless-
regret scraping against memory,
questions that won't settle,
a voice that says
this is too much
and not enough
at the same time.

You want to speak,
but language feels useless,
like trying to hold water
with open hands.

So you stay quiet.
And the quiet becomes a storm,
roaring in a language
only you understand.

This is how silence screams-
not with sound,
but with presence.
Heavy.
Constant.
Unseen.