Silent Screams

I wish I was angry today, but my head aches so that I cannot even open my eyes to type. Many have felt it, few will admit it. I know it well, emotional or physical pain so excruciating that tears escape from my eyes while silent screams scrape the walls of my throat as they come roaring up from the depths of my aching soul only to fall upon deaf ears. Heard they are not, expressed they must be. And so the tears flow, the tiniest sound byte of my screams encased in each poignant droplet cascading down my cheek. They hang, suspended for a brief moment upon my quivering chin before splattering silently onto my t-shirt. There they evaporate as the sounds of my sadness and pain are quietly absorbed. My screams, now entrenched in the cotton fibers are soon to be unceremoniously washed down the drain in my next load of underwear and socks. A brief respite ensues and exhaustion, a welcome relief, brings with it the precious gift of sleep to my weary unopened eyes.