What gives them the right to say
everything will be okay?
When in fact,
years and years have passed
with my emotions masked.
I struggle through each day
without the strength to say,
I hate the useless fights.
I cry myself to sleep each night.

I've mastered the art of silent tears.
Each night. Each month. Each year.
My family tries to understand my emotions,
claims they've been in this same motion
but, oh, how could they have been?

I watch from the outside,
continuously struggling to get inside.
I watch the family of four,
though only from the door.
And ask myself,
Where am I in this mix?
It's simple. I merely don't exist.

But it didn't start off this way. No.
When exactly did I go?
My soul is trampled on.
My heart seams simply gone.

I watch as my siblings change,
growing each and every day,
and here I am staying precisely the same.

They say I'm afraid to develop.
When in fact, I've simply given up.
They say each day is a token.
Then why does it just leave me broken?
When I try to explain,
they say don't complain.
But they just don't see,
It's not my surroundings that make me unhappy.
It's simply what's inside of me.
Which happens to be nothing.

So now I will ask,
When will this pass?
Another day. Another month. Another year.
How long must I continue with these silent tears?