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What has accumulated.

I don’t tell people what I truly feel.
Not because no one offers or reaches out
I just don’t think it matters.
I prefer to stay silent.
In some way, it’s a habit. And also a fear,
a fear of revealing my inner world.
A world filled with very sharp emotions, very intense ones,
with a lot of pain, wounds, scratches.
I prefer not to show it to the world.
I prefer to lock my mouth and keep the key to myself,
never giving it to anyone.
After many years of loneliness, not alone, but lonely
I don’t have the ability to speak, only to listen.
There is a choice in it, but it comes from fear.
I don’t have the ability to dare to speak.
In the end, it falls back on me.
Because my storage room fills and fills,
until it becomes too much.
So I prefer to disappear.
I truly prefer to stay silent.
I’m comfortable being the listener,
the one who gives a hand,
and then retreats into myself,
fighting my demons alone.
Those battles leave scratches,
and sharp pain.
But I truly prefer that the pain be only mine.
I don’t want to disturb anyone.
It doesn’t matter. Others might say it does
but that doesn’t change the way my mind sees things,
because it’s stuck in a loop of years.
I truly don’t know how to stop, how to speak, how to communicate.
It’s very heavy.
But I’ve learned to live with it.
And it’s okay. It’s really okay.
I don’t know if I’m lying to myself when I say that —
but still, it’s really, really okay.
I truly prefer to stay silent.
It’s more comfortable for me to be on the listening side,
with the smiling mask.
And when I need quiet, I simply step away for a moment,
and return as if nothing happened.
I might say genreally that my state wasn’t good in those moments
but I won’t share more than that.
I’m pretty sure I will always be on the listening side,
the one who gives advice.
At the end of the conversation they’ll say,
“Thank you, you really helped me.”
I’ll smile gently and say,
“No problem. I’m always here.”
I have a lot of empathy for the world around me.
Even though sometimes I’m very angry at it.
In my eyes, there are people who don’t behave properly
but I will never educate anyone.
It’s none of my business.
Everyone can live exactly as they want.
I simply won’t take part in that person’s world.
Every person carries a different world.
And maybe it’s also the environment’s fault that I feel this way
because many times when I did dare,
when I did speak,
when I did say what bothered me
I received a knife.
And I no longer have the strength for those stabs.
So I built the mask.
And probably, I will stay with it forever

The sea
is beautiful
pleasant and infinite
it seems inviting

But sometimes
the sea
feels like a trap
it’s unpredictable

The sea
has mood swings
unexpected ones
sometimes it's stormy
and sometimes it's calm

The question is
can you trust it?
In my eyes,
people who trust the sea
are people who trust easily

Because
the sea is indeed beautiful and pleasant
but will you come back from it?

The sea
reminds me a little of my mind
sometimes
it can be calm and peaceful
but in an unexpected moment
thoughts become stormy

And then
I feel
like I’m drowning
deep down
struggling
to come back up
and breathe

The waves
are the thoughts
they can be
very wild
and pull me
even deeper
just like the sea

I hope
that one day
I’ll be able
to trust my mind like the sea.