Spilled Milk

I keep trying to spill the truth, but you can’t clean the truth up like spilled milk once it’s out.

I could try to cover my mouth with my fingers, scrape the back of my throat to sift for more words to cover up what I want to say, after I say it. A band aid to bury your feelings.

I could tell you.

 

I really could.

I could let the warmth of relief take over me.

My thoughts are brewing.

They want to be served.

 

I could see the hurt in your face, and pretend like it doesn’t bother me.

The stony look I’ve gotten so good at.

The one that stands in place for so long, people don’t see the waterfalls as real when they fall down my face.

Fake News.

 

I care.

I care.

I care.

 

Why is coming out into the light not as easy as hiding within?

 

Why are my thoughts chasing each other, around and around, fighting

Yins and Yangs barking loudly over each other until my brain is screaming

Why can’t you hear me

I can’t even hear myself

 

Why can’t you just look at me and know

Why isn’t it that easy

 

Why is it hard at all

Why is your touch so easy and so right

Your lips a well-traveled path

Why are some things easy to say

But others are dark tunnels, an endless labyrinth of unspoken thoughts

 

My thoughts are like kaleidoscopes

Spiraling into another

And another

Until I am on the brink of insanity and suddenly I can’t breathe

 

You don’t understand

And I can’t blame you

Because I don’t help

 

And how can I help when I am drowning

When I hear myself failing and sputtering and running out of steam

When my energy is depleted and I don’t care anymore

But I do.

I care.

I care.

 

What if I told you a story

About spilled milk

And suddenly it was too late

The thoughts were coming

The Unsaid, it tried to save the day, tried to mend the broken heart

But the thoughts, they came running

And backed you into a cold, dark corner

 

And gnashed their teeth

And showed their claws

And the milk,

It was still spilled.

 

What if I told you that story had no ending

Because the thoughts kept coming

And they did nothing but scare you

And drive you crazy

And there it was, again,

The milk.

 

What scared me more, the spilled milk or the thoughts

 

Sometimes I care more than anything

Sometimes I am not me,

But a vessel

I live for others

And what is that

When you aren’t even you

When you can’t breathe

And you know nothing

And no one knows

Because of stony faces and make believe waterfalls

 

What if everything just disappeared

And we went to sleep

And the story was never told

Was it even true

 

Or was it in the land of make believe

With the waterfalls

 

Believe me,

Believe me.

 

Screaming for someone to understand

Behind a stony wall, there lived love

And laughter.

And dreams.

Silly dreams.

 

I care.

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