I have two separate lists            
One of things I want to tell you
And one of things I can tell you

The want list is tucked neatly
Around my heart and tied with a bow
Aching to be heard        

And the can list is crammed
Memorized in my head          
A robotic slew of words I know are okay

I keep them apart
Bound to different parts of myself
Just in case I try to get them confused

Because sometimes it gets hard
Trying to keep the wants
From the cans

And I thought I knew difficult
I thought I knew how hard
Things can be.


But I didn't know actual trouble
Until the wants bubbled behind my lips trying to take place of the cans

But I didn't know difficult
Until my feelings pressed against my teeth and demanded to be free.

But I didn't know anything
Until everything I wanted to say pushed on my head like a gun with the bullet in the chamber and my only option was to pull the trigger but I was shaking too much and my hands were too sweaty and the gun slipped and words slipped and my confidence slipped

and

The cans came back to the surface
And I asked you how she was
And the robot voice was all I heard

But all you heard was me
And the list of things
that were okay to say.