i play the same melancholy songs
that I do when we fight
sit with my legs crossed
or pace in the pretty light

i don't want to be the wounded wife
the small smile sly im fine
i look in the mirror to see her
smiling back at me, she tells me
its fine
you learn to swallow the pain
instead of fighting back

i loathe my fight
the roar of my emotions unchained
but without it
i look empty
devoid of emotion and passion

is that what I'm destined for?
stuck with a man grey,
structured, solid, un-movable
when i'm expressive as the sky
in all her beauty

how do I breathe when we are so different
I crumble while you stand tall and fine
even if you did crumble you wouldn't want me there
a signature of we
are not a team

i could send you my words
explain to you through them
how i feel
the way i do best
but you'd be just as blank
just as confused

so maybe
i swallow my hurt
give a small smile
and say im fine