Volume I keep Hidden

A raw exploration of the internal noise of self doubt and the quiet voice of resilience

“Volume I Keep Hidden”


There’s a room in me
no one knocks on—
not because it’s locked,
but because I learned
how to swallow the sound.


Inside,
my thoughts don’t whisper.
They don’t ask permission.
They don’t dress themselves up
in polite little lies.


They scream.


They scream my name
like it’s something I forgot—
like I left pieces of myself
in places I swore
I’d never go back to.


They echo with questions
I dodge in daylight—
Why wasn’t I enough?
Why do I still care?
Why does silence feel louder than chaos?


And God—
the things they say about me
when the world goes quiet.


They drag out memories
like ghosts with receipts,
replaying every moment
I tried to be softer,
smaller,
easier to love.


They don’t let me forget
the nights I broke in private,
the way I stitched myself back together
with trembling hands
and called it strength.


Sometimes
they turn cruel—
twisting my reflection
into something unrecognizable,
telling me I’m too much
and never enough
in the same breath.


And I believe them
for a second too long.


But here’s the part
I don’t say out loud—


Even in all that noise,
all that chaos,
all that unbearable truth—


There’s another voice.


Quieter.
Steadier.
Still standing.


It doesn’t scream.


It just says,
You’re still here.


And somehow…
that’s louder than everything else.