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.
