The Quiet Hurts Most

I shed a tear into the night, the room shrinking with the fading

light. I turn the volume way up high— hoping the noise

can swallow my trembling voice. Inhale… exhale…

but the words I’ve held too long still rise above the

noise. Echoes I can’t outrun tonight. Head bowed,

eyes closed, hands folded like someone might hear. But silence answers,

sharp and clear— every small hope I whispered slips away. And I’m

alone with what I fear; the quiet hurts the most in here.