Quiet

And so when they ask if you’re okay you just nod.

Not because you are, but because you know that the second you open your mouth everything you’re feeling that you don’t understand is going to pour from your eyes. 

The short gasps for air, that doesn’t seem to want to stay in your lungs, turn into harsh hiccups taking the place of words you wouldn’t have been able to make sense of even if you could get them to come out. 

Your mind is tornado and your mouth is the storm cellar door trying to protect everyone else,

Why do they try to pry it open?

Did they not hear the alarm bells or see the flashing warning lights of you trying to keep them safe?