How does it feel?
To say,
With such dexterity,
That you are sad
Or alone
Or depressed?
But you know nothing of these things.
At least not the way I know them.
Sadness is my bible,
Alone is my prayer,
Depression is my God.
Does that make sense now?
You know so much of
Religion and the like,
Can you begin to comprehend
What I know as daily life?
Do tears not shake your earth
And resonate in your bones
Anymore?
Do muffled sobs become your
Nightly ritual?
Is smiling physically painful?
And silence is deafening,
Even to the quietest ear?
I am all things
Broken and
Used;
Abused.
I am pain and
Loneliness.
I don't know these things:
I am these things.
Good night and good bye
From the blonde girl with
Golden green eyes
And tear stained cheeks.