It’s bitter on my tongue, it’s sirens in my ears.
It’s the quiet ache wishing someone were here.
It’s the words I never spoke cause my throat always closes.
It’s the clenching in my chest, the tears behind my eyes.
It’s the blood that runs on the bathroom tiles.
It’s the silence in my mind, but also the yelling all the time.
It’s when I’m forgotten, lost in the dark. But the lights are too blinding, wouldn’t dare to stand out.
It’s the way I’m invisible in a room full of people, but it’s also the way I’m noticed too.
It’s the way I believe in God, but feel like I don’t.
It’s the things I think, that others spoke.
It’s cold and angry, sad and hurt, loud and lonely.
Forgotten, yet still holding on.
It’s the things I wanted to do, but never had the passion to.
The things I thought were me, never really were.
Do you have a name for it?
Cause I can’t think of another thing to say.
Mar 2
Mar 2, 2026 at 6:37 PM UTC
It’s bitter on my tongue, it’s sirens in my ears.
It’s the quiet ache wishing someone were here.
It’s the words I never spoke cause my throat always closes.
It’s the clenching in my chest, the tears behind my eyes.
It’s the blood that runs on the bathroom tiles.
It’s the silence in my mind, but also the yelling all the time.
It’s when I’m forgotten, lost in the dark. But the lights are too blinding, wouldn’t dare to stand out.
It’s the way I’m invisible in a room full of people, but it’s also the way I’m noticed too.
It’s the way I believe in God, but feel like I don’t.
It’s the things I think, that others spoke.
It’s cold and angry, sad and hurt, loud and lonely.
Forgotten, yet still holding on.
It’s the things I wanted to do, but never had the passion to.
The things I thought were me, never really were.
Do you have a name for it?
Cause I can’t think of another thing to say.