Impassioned

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I was cursed, sadly.
I don't cry, for things that normally seem heart breaking.
In my venture to break,
I hit a strange steel piped wall,
Rapturing in the pagoda of my mind.
Holding still in solace,
A wish to divulge tears I couldn't shed.
Clenching tight, my bed's sheets,
I relinquish from hurting myself.
We all have a our different ways of escalating pain;
Mine is anger and silence.
In my silence, I cry a lot inside my head.
My mind, saying all the things my eyes couldn't say.
In my anger, I scream a lot;
Most times, all out in frustration.
My vocals, yelling all the things my mind couldn't put in words.
In my silence, there's anger;
A strange calmness.
My facial expressions, saying all the things my mouth wouldn't say.
In my pacing breaths,
there's a calculation of the rhythm to my next motion.
A notion, that I'm trying to process a lot of emotions.
In My soul, there's a calm hearing to my heart's preaching's;
Of all the things,
I'd rather not say.

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