No Idea
If I scream my pain I'm mean.
If I keep my tone casual, it isn't serious.
If I whisper it, I become a victim of their pity.
If I don't say things out loud, I don't want to help myself
And God forbid if I cry, every pain in the world is suddenly compared to my grief and is much worse.
What do I do with my pain?
If all the windows are sealed shut and no door is open for me?
They block any holes even a nail could fit in
And if it overflows from my being, I'm blamed for the damage it does to me.
The world takes my pain only to multiply it by infinity
And give it back to me as a gift
Wrappped with the sharp edges
Of rude stares, snide comments
And judgements on the things I do wrong, on the things I do right
And on the fact that I barely survive.
So when I start to keep my pain as my only company
And somehow still manage to truly smile, Instead of appreciating they tell me "See, it wasn't so bad, was it?"
And I reply "Yes, it was better than asking for kindness where it ceases to exist."
If I keep my tone casual, it isn't serious.
If I whisper it, I become a victim of their pity.
If I don't say things out loud, I don't want to help myself
And God forbid if I cry, every pain in the world is suddenly compared to my grief and is much worse.
What do I do with my pain?
If all the windows are sealed shut and no door is open for me?
They block any holes even a nail could fit in
And if it overflows from my being, I'm blamed for the damage it does to me.
The world takes my pain only to multiply it by infinity
And give it back to me as a gift
Wrappped with the sharp edges
Of rude stares, snide comments
And judgements on the things I do wrong, on the things I do right
And on the fact that I barely survive.
So when I start to keep my pain as my only company
And somehow still manage to truly smile, Instead of appreciating they tell me "See, it wasn't so bad, was it?"
And I reply "Yes, it was better than asking for kindness where it ceases to exist."
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