Broken, shattered, replying with silence& shrugs to Earnest enquiries,
Surprised when my handwriting doesn't look indecipherable
I find myself talking to
The one person here who doesn't reply with "I feel the same".
Because,
How many broken parts can swim together
In this ocean notorious for drowning little lost boys & girls & neithers?

I'm having the same breakdown she is...
You'd think I'd be able to help her.
The realisation that I can't sets in &
There follows the waves and currents
That twist around me, drag me by the ****** wrists down,
And my head submerges before I get a chance to scream -
"Worthless; Idiot; *******; Someone, **** me" I am drowning,
Someone, help me...

I do not signal.
I watch, as she is crowded into recovery -
By the people who have worth,
Who do not lose their voices in times like these.
I make no sign as she swims to the shallow end,
As she talks about her dreams,
The future she wants,
She will have.
And I am happy for her.

She does not know she must have pulled me in deeper with her thrashing,
And so I remain silent
So as not to pull her in again.
If silence is violence,
As we all know it is,
We must all have convinced ourselves
That we are each,
Individually,
The only exception.