They boil up inside
   unable to escape
I want to scream
   I want to run
      run from my emotions
         my feelings
I feel as if I am suppressing them
   but the problem is
      I have no problems
Everyone writes about
   loss
        love
              death
                      mourn­ing
That is my problem
   I have never
      lost
         loved
            no one has died
               or mourned of my own
That is it
   I am surrounded
      by those screaming for help
         those suffering heart ache
but I sit here
   thinking thoughts that are not my own
                   I want to scream

I have this bubble
   ready to burst,
I need to tell someone
   but what is there to tell...
I have nothing to say,
   no confession to make,
      no promise to break...
Just an overwhelming hole,
   a hole that gets bigger
      with every passing moment...
I feel depressed but about what?
   There is nothing wrong,
      no lover or broken heart,
         no loss, death or mourning...
                                                     ­    But if so why is there a hole...
Why can I write poems that speak of things beyond me....

I want to *scream...