Sweet I Am Not

You want me to show you

how I am feeling, God.

You’ve seen the deathly

silence turn sorrow cheeks

cold. I want to curl my legs

to my chest, pretending

I am not mad at you.

I’m fine, you don’t have

to bend down, checking

if I am alright. You can’t

love me with my disinterest

in everything around me—

the books, food, people.

T.V, music I’m blaring

because I can’t bear

sitting still with you.

I can see myself pushing

you away, screaming,

go away! Would you

crawl with me to the door,

helping me stand, so

I could shut you out?

slamslamslamslam.

I’d break half a smile,

watching your frown

come before me

seven times complete.

You can walk away,

don’t mind my heart.

Go. I will only fall

dust anyway.

My thoughts—

wanting to run run

and sit in an open field,

why do I want to hurt

(hate) you? echoing

to the sky. Do you

know how alone

this aches?

Your agony

nailed on the cross,

while I could have been

joking amongst the scoffers,

Pfft, yeah, I’m sure this guy

loves me and you. Musnt

love himself much, if he’s

willingly dying for those criminals.

Hey Jesus, here’s another rock!

Another scratch.

Gush. Blood.

Cry. Mine.

Jesus, I

can’t look,

watch you

compassion

me. No, no,

no, no, NO.

I can’t hear

anything,

my insides

unmoving,

stiffed

dark

I am

left a bitter

why.

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4 thoughts on “Sweet I Am Not

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