My thoughts are my own,
My expressions, private.
To the world, I'm a closed book, cold and withdrawn.
Inside, I'm warm, loving and considered.
I don't feel the need for commentary, just the knowledge that I can hear the discussion.
If people are looking for my expression, they should look inside, rather than the easier visuals.
If you judge a man by the weight of his tears, I am worthless.
But inside, I cry in pain.
I can shout and scream without ever making a sound. No-one will hear, no-one will know.
I'm labelled as shy, quiet and lacking confidence.
They are often surprised at how wrong they are.
People use the word introvert as if it is some disease. It's my nature, my steady state.
Silence is my home,
Solitude my respite.
I am an introvert. To expect explanation, is to wait
Until I'm ready
To share.
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