I was just a little girl
Watching chaos unravel, helplessly
Confusion became a daily routine
Silence, my only defense
And I honed the art of observing pain.
Day by day
I saved up pieces of disappointment
Until the jar began to crack
Spilling exhaustion
Hardening into quiet rebellion
Sharpening into well-trained disgust.
We stopped looking, even beneath the bed
Where is the sorry we deserved?
Where is the responsibility you clung to so tightly?
Where is all the change you once promised?
But whatever
You're here, technically
And us?
We've mastered the art of needing nothing from you.
I'm sorry. It's tiring to keep it all alone. We tried to talk. But you're the only one who always ends up being the victim, as if nothing ever happened.