a broken record

I feel like a broken record. 

The same depressing track keeps playing

And there is no way to stop it. 

I am stuck in a cloudy haze,

And not even the inevitable rainbow can cleanse me of my storm.

My heart is a box, but the key is nowhere to be found. 

I am bottled up in this cage, unable to speak or to breathe.

I am numb.

I feel nothing.

Not even the love I see in front of me can snap me out of this. 

I crave what I can't have,

And it drives me insane.

I've become lost in a bubble,

Searching for my own sanity.

No one else realizes, 

No one else knows

That there is a sword being driven through me,

Piercing my emotions and making me dumb.

I hear nothing but the shrieks of pain within me.

I see nothing but the tears and puffy eyes on my face in the mirror,

Waiting for somebody to notice the fog surrounding me,

Engulfing me in my loneliness.

I speak nothing but cries of help.

They see me as normal because of the mask I wear.

I guess it's called a smile. 

Laughter is foreign to me,

As I have never heard of such a language.

I myself, am a locked diary, unable to be read by anyone who ventures near.

Those who search for my keys give up easily and drift away- slowly and then all at once. 

I am misunderstood as a book of secrets, when really I am a book of chained feelings. 

I have a heart and a soul, and a brain, but to them I have nothing but a fake smile. 

The words written inside of me bleed ink of sorrow and regret and embarrassment,

So much that I cannot bear to think of them in the wrong hands-

Hands that strangle the necks of those to show emotions.

Emotions are meant for within, so I've learned. 

It's better to keep your mouth shut, so I do. 

Yet I am still hurt, still burdened, still shamed. 

I am pushed away only to come back. 

"You're okay," I tell myself, but another truth awaits. 

Next to the victory of happiness, far out of reach.