It's there

It's there. All of it is. Swollen and stuck, deep and crushed. I have emotions, you won't see them easily. My face and words can't express much more than what would make people guess, in the most vulnerable important moments. And the bleak rumor in their head, that they don't exist. That is outwardly valid from their window. I don't like hyperventilating if I have to cry... And I need to be held in my loves embrace to give tears my of happiness. This wasn't a poem?