I only have myself
the same heart,
the same soul,
trying to comfort what the world cannot.
But this time is different.
This time,
my tears refuse to stop.
They fall until my pillow
knows every ache I could never explain.
I never spoke to start a war.
I spoke because silence
was already hurting me.
I wanted to say,
"This made me uncomfortable."
"This hurt me."
"I'm upset."
"My mind won't let this go."
Not to blame.
Not to accuse.
Only to be honest.
Yet somehow,
my honesty became trouble.
My feelings became arguments.
My words became accusations
I never intended to make.
So I questioned myself.
Should I stay silent
just to keep the peace?
But peace that demands my silence
isn't peace at all.
It only teaches my heart
to suffer quietly.
So I opened up.
And somehow,
it hurt even more.
Now I have no words left.
Only silence—
not because I have nothing to say,
but because I'm too shocked
to believe this is where we are.
Maybe that's why I'm alone tonight.
Not because I want to be.
But because my heart
no longer knows
whether being heard is possible,
or whether solitude
hurts less than feeling alone
beside someone you love.
So tonight,
I will do the only thing I can.
I will sit with my own heart,
wipe away my own tears,
and gently remind myself
Even if no one understands my feelings,
they are still real.
And maybe,
for now,
I am enough
to comfort my own heart.
