Mar 15, 2017 23:32
I am not upset, but I'm asked all the same
and in doing so I become what it was I was not.
I feel the frustration build and bubble under
my insecurities and dashed hopes of dreams,
I see all of my worries and fears coalesce
into the amalgamated horror of everything
I wished would just leave me be, that it would
let me, just for once, be, quite simply, 'me'.
You don't inquire out of spite, or to incite
the unbridled emotion I carry within me, no,
you just wanted to understand what it was
that made me act the way that I acted.
You want to have a semblance of understanding
for why I get like I do, why I seem so tense;
you just want to be the helping hand in the dark.
I don't want the helping hand.
I don't want to need help.
What I want is to be 'normal',
is to be able to get through the day
without setting off alarm bells,
without stirring the hornet nest
of worry and concern that you
hold within, surrounded by all the
good intentions and positive thoughts
that any one person could muster.
I appreciate the sentiment.
I hate the end result.
If there's one thing I have learned,
in my admittedly short stint of breathing air,
it's that there is no black and white, only grey.
That grey seems to be hounding me,
reminding me that it's not as simple,
not as straightforward, as they say it is.
So this is one thing I want to be simple,
one thing that I want to be straightforward.
Please, just understand,
I don't understand.
I don't see that I'm rude,
that I'm coming across as angry.
I don't sense the tone of voice,
I can't hear it back until it's too late,
the words are already out there
and you've decided what it was I meant,
even if I simply did not mean that.
To be plain, I don't think that I think like you,
and I don't think it's something I can learn to do.
writing,
poetry