Pardon my outrageous accusations
But if we could trade places
You'd see what you were doing was tasteless
And I'm sorry I hurt you
But I had to be happy
Cause to be honest
The love was ******
The behaviour upset me
And I just felt
You didn't get me
Now I'm not trying to be rude
You didn't give me what I wanted
The relationship was lacking
And now the shows over
I've been waiting since june
Hoping this all blows over
I don't love you anymore
And everytime I talk to you
My heart gets colder

Hell is when you are in pain
But don't show it
Cause you don't want a million questions
Hell is when you feel pain
And there's no moral
No lesson
When you are trapped in emotion
And have no control over what will happen
When the tears roll down your cheeks and you can't stop them
When your soul is screaming
But no one will listen
When your soul aches
When your eyes are blinded by the heaviness
The hurt
The pain
And knowing that tomorrow,
The cycle stays the same
When smiling actually hurts your feelings because its proof that you're a liar
You're lying to yourself
And everyone else
Cause when they see that smile
They don't see the pain
The tears
The emotions felt
But just a facade you put up
Because you're scared.
Scared of the implications
And seeing how people actually feel-
Do they care about me?
Only God knows
And meanwhile the pain grows
Fornicates, multiplies!
And so do the lies
The "I'm okay"s
The "I'm fine"s
But back to what I was saying,
Hell is when you have a million ways
To explain your pain

First,
You teach me to think
With my own brains
Feel out my way
With my own feet
Treat me the same
As the boys


Second,
You put me in a school
Where they teach me to read
- oh, what a world!
They teach me to look
At international
Literature
- Marge Piercy,
Maya Angelou
And the like

Next,
You show me the crimson
Powder meant for foreheads
A deeper red for blood
Spilt on beds.
A life of compromise
And adjustment


Ripping out my ideas
And opinions
Telling me they're worthless
A baby, a house,
A life of adjustment
Is all this was meant for.


Tearing my beliefs
In an equal world
An equal society
Where society rises
To meet human morality


Is this what you taught me to read for?
Sorry sirs, ladies.
I tip my hat and bow.
Sorry to disappoint.
I was meant for an equal position
And I'll take it
- by force or mutual
compromise.

Yes, I'm okay.
No I'm not.

Yes, I'm just really tired.
No, I'm tired of living.

Yes, everything is fine.
No, my world is crashing down around me.

Yes, I'll be fine
No, you'll be lucky to see clean wrists tomorrow.

Yes, I've been eating.
No, I haven't eaten, when I do, I throw it back up in disgust.

Yes, I feel confident.
No, I just wish I was perfect.

Yes, I'm fine being alone.
No, I just want somebody to love me...

Yes, I'm telling the truth*
No, I'm telling the truth.

Poetry isn't about the words,
Or the emotions,
Or sounding beautiful,
Or looking smart,
Or knowing big words
Like ephemeral.
It isn't about alliteration
Or similes and metaphors.
Poetry is about what it doesn't say.
The silence between the words,
That's what matters.