Things I Can’t Say Out Loud

There are words behind my teeth,

Pressed tight, resting, hidden—

A list of truths I fold

And tuck deep in my pocket.

I carry them each day,

Invisible like heavy stones.

They gather at the edge of my tongue

And sink when I swallow hard.

So many things I wish I could say,

But the moment is never right.

The room feels heavy with silence,

While I nod and act as if I’m fine.

I miss the way you used to laugh—

Carefree, loud, and honest.

You filled the house with a kind of light

That warmed the corners of my heart.

Instead of saying, “I long for you,”

I smile and talk about the weather,

Letting words drift like clouds

So you never see the emptiness inside.

Sometimes I want to ask, “Do you remember

When we were happy with so little?”

But it’s easier to say, “I’m doing well,”

Although the words taste bitter and thin.

Sometimes I want to scream

I am tired—more than tired—

Bone deep, soul deep,

Weighed down by expectations

Stacked on my shoulders like bricks.

But the world likes strength,

Celebrates calm, rewards silence.

So I put on my best face,

Hide the shadows under my eyes,

Say “I’m fine,” even as I ache

From the effort to hold it together.

The truth is, I don’t always know how to ask for help,

Or trust that anyone would listen if I did.

I wish I could speak up

When your ideas silence mine,

But I keep my head low,

Smile small, nod along.

Each word I bite back

Adds to the noise in my mind—

An echo of all the ways

I let my voice grow small

To keep the peace, to avoid the sting

Of confrontation or disappointment.

If I could, I’d tell you

That your words cut deeper than you see,

That sometimes your praise

Feels like a leash, not a gift.

But I swallow these confessions,

Save them for late nights,

Letting tears say what I never will.

Your absence stings

In ways no one can see.

I wonder if you’d care

If I told you you hurt me.

Would it matter to you?

Would you apologize, or just dismiss

Another “overreaction”?

I replay old arguments in my mind,

Wishing I had found the right words then,

Instead of falling silent

And letting guilt fill the room.

There are days I look in the mirror

And don’t recognize my own eyes.

I want to admit—

I’m lost, unsure, a patchwork of longing

And regret stitched together by habit.

But I rarely say, “I don’t know who I am,”

Because I worry you’ll agree,

Or worse, you’ll walk away.

I love you too much,

And sometimes not enough.

I’m sorry. I’m scared.

But I let silence win again.

If I told you about the nights

I lie awake, counting mistakes,

Would it change how you see me?

Sometimes my heart aches

For kindness, for understanding,

But instead I give,

And give, and keep giving,

Hoping no one notices

How empty I’m becoming inside.

There are dreams I never mention,

Plans I keep to myself,

Because I’m scared you’ll laugh,

Call them foolish, too far-fetched.

Better to let the hope fade

Than watch it be crushed in real time.

So I write lists in secret,

Hide journals under the bed,

Whisper wishes into the dark.

If all my unsaid thoughts

Took root and bloomed,

Would you see my heart,

Or just a field of wild, tangled words?

Would you pull the flowers,

Try to arrange them into a bouquet,

Or leave them to grow messy and free?

I wonder how much we all hold back,

How many quiet battles we lose

Simply because we’re afraid to speak.

I am full of unsent messages,

Half-formed complaints,

Unspoken confessions,

Silent gratitude.

I am someone who wants to say

Thank you louder,

Sorry clearer,

I need you more than you know.

But instead, I nod,

Keep my hands in my pockets,

And let the world turn

On the things I can’t say out loud.