They ask me, "Why don't you speak up?" And I smile, Because it's not that I don't have words. I have too many. But I know what happens when I use them - suddenly I'm "rude," "overthinking," "emotional." So I swallow it all. The anger, the sadness, the truth. I nod, I agree, I let it slide, while inside I'm fuming. It's not silence because I'm fine, its silence because I'm tired of being the villain for saying how I really feel. People think my silence means I'm fine. They don't see it's just me choosing peace over honesty. I don't stay silent because it doesnt matter; I stay silent because the moment I speak, I become the problem.