Tales of my Introverted-ness

Sometimes all I want to do is stay In bed and cry. Cry not only till I ran out of tears, not only till I’m exhausted and beat. But till it doesn’t hurt anymore. Even if it takes a week, a month, a year. So long as it stops. I want to cry till there’s nothing more to make me sad. So sad I have to hide within myself.
Sometimes I have to hide my silence behind a multitude of words even when i don’t want to, but it’s easier to slay than say, to say that I don’t want to talk or be heard. To say and explain that I’m too sad to live so I just exist. Its okay when extroverts want to party all weekend and dance till they can’t feel their legs. But it’s unheard of when an introvert wants to stay in and be quite all weekend. When we want to pour out our hearts till we can’t feel it beat even.
But I can’t, so everyday I slap on a smile and a can-do attitude. I have to wipe my tears and suppress my pain. I have to act like the knives in my heart don’t hurt. I have to act like the sound of people breathing doesn’t kill me inside. Because it does. Each breath they take is like a kick to my side…


I’m at a point where I’m exhausted, I’m tired