Title: The Silence That Screams Comments

(A lone figure stands under a dim spotlight, eyes flickering with unspoken emotion. The air is thick with tension, every breath weighted with restraint.)
How many times, I wonder… how many times have I felt the venom rise in my chest, ready to spill, to scorch, to shatter the air with the words I ache to scream… yet, I hold it back. I bite my tongue. I bite it, not once, not twice, but a thousand times over—each syllable a dagger I refuse to throw, each sentence a storm I tame within the hollow of my own restraint.
Oh, the cruelty of silence! It is no friend, no companion—it is a cage. Every laugh that cuts too deep, every betrayal that leaves its mark on my soul, every insult, every deceit—I feel them all, but my lips betray me not. I swallow them whole. I press them into the darkness, where only my own heart hears the fury, the despair, the longing to strike back with the truth, raw and jagged.
And yet… perhaps there is a power here. Yes… a power in biting one's tongue. To pause, to wait, to let the tempest rage inside while the world sees only calm… to let wisdom and patience, not rage and impulse, shape the moment. They call it restraint, they call it discipline, but I know its true weight—it is martyrdom of the soul, the silent suffering that molds us, sharpens us, makes us bear a strength we did not know we possessed.
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