Behind a mask of laughter, a scream is dying to escape.

It’s begging to be heard, to shout at them to just shut up,

but when they get too loud, it’s honestly such an ache.

Cause who would try to talk above my friends?

I feel like I’m drowning, in their noise, their drama, their stress.

They look right through my pain, with eyes that don’t understand.

Assuming they know my story, but they don’t even know me.

They speak for me, as if I’m not in the room.

Are they mocking me, or is it just my paranoia?