stimuli

tough luck

i'm tired of not being able to speak
i can't open up or show emotion, because i'm "strong"
or, i don't, i won't, you say, because i'm "immature"
but it's from years of tough lucks
and shit happens that you spit
oh, you don't want any lip?
i'll cut off a piece and save it for you
leave it in my will when i die,
so you can see the pressure you put on me
the pain in my mouth
from years of silence and anxiety
don't put your problems on me
cause "i'll have to learn someday"
i'm strong but this did not make it
my skin is calloused even from the sandpaper
my tears cleaned the wounds
and my own hands bandaged them
i could speak for hours
but mostly in writing and IMs
yell all you want
you dug your own grave
shoveling dirt into my mouth
so there was nothing i could say
until i found friends i had never known
that could relate over the phone
tell me to get over it
scream all you want
but i'm not going to keep putting up a front
i'll put some gloss on the lip i gave you,
and i'll never shut my mouth.