Have you ever felt so pent up with emotion that when you want to scream it all out, when you want to shout it out to the world, when it's time for you to take your place on the podium and take that stance against the world... You have nothing to say?

It's not that you lack the feeling, just the words to describe them. Just the way you want to yell out at everyone and snap at the world. It's not that there isn't any emotion behind the facade of happiness and that perpetual smile. It's not that you aren't angry, not that you don't feel like shrieking and kicking with tears in your eyes... You can't.

You just can't. You clench your fists, and you bite your lip, bite it so damn hard that you almost draw blood, and you know that its taste on your tongue can only mean that you've clammed up. Yes, you've clammed up, yes you. The person that's always worn her heart on her sleeve for daws to peck at with their blood-stained beaks, the person that laughs hard and cries even harder. The person that slowly, bit by bit, rips off pieces of wallpaper until her nails have worn down and the skin is chapped, the rawness of her fingertips displaced only by the rawness of her heart.

She's still there, she's still feeling... She just can't put it into words.

You don't know how to express what you're going through at the moment, the vortex of stress and inadecuacy and feeling as though you aren't good enough for anything, the tears that flow freely when you bite them in and refuse to come out when you need to cry. The promises you've made to yourself and broken, the friendships around you that you can visualise crumbling apart with a few harsh words and misplaced thoughts. The friendships that you sought so hard to build, that you realized you've been building based on guarding their feelings more so than your own... No, you're just too afraid to offend, aren't you? You're weak, weak, weak, weaker than anything you've ever condemned.

You're still on that podium, shaking, shivering, teeth chattering. You open your mouth to speak, but you make no sound. You want to talk about how you feel about whatever's been going on, but you can't. A few words surface into your mind- inadequacy, lonliness, stress- but they aren't enough. Nothing you say can shake off the way you've been; no amount of shaking can make you remember the words you want so desperately to find.

You hear the tap, tap, tap of your feet crashing against the wooden floorboards, and as you bury your head in the velvet curtains, you realise that you're hiding. You're hiding from the world, you're hiding from your friends, you're hiding from the big lie you've been weaving and have been struggling to keep- your loom's getting too small, that little voice in your head whispers, and you know it's right. It's telling you the truth.

Because for the first time in your life, you're surrounded by people.

And you've never felt so alone.

Help.