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Quiet,
silence,

the feeling of being alone,

these are the feelings,

that are always well known.

The block of writing,

because of the feeling of life,

makes you want to look around,

and find the knife.

I can cry,

weep,

scream in pain,

nothing seems normal,

nothing is the same.

You see blood,

yet you do no see the tears,

my feelings are hidden,

they get worse over the years.

I can laugh,

but my humor is unheard,

the voice of weakness is hidden,

no head will be turned.

I am strong,

I do not know about you,
I can speak,

or forget,

but not the two. 

I scream, 

and leave,

never say good-bye,

you see me,

I am gone,

and you'll never know,

what just went on.