"your pain means
nothing to us
if you can not find a
poetic way to justify it.
your suffering and your blood
sweat and tears are
nothing to us
if you can not tell us
why you feel that way"
i do not know why i feel this way.
i do not know why my brain thinks
sometimes
i am damaged and dying.
i do not know why i do not want to
touch people
or see people
or know people.
i do not know why my eyes find comfort
in fire
or why they find fear in liquid
or why my lips take their homes
between my teeth.
i do not know why i am sad.
why i am sad.
why; i can not justify.
must mean i am not as sad
as i make myself out to be.
r.k.
YOU ARE READING
Meathead Monologue
PoetryI wanted everyone and everything; all the time and all at once. [volume ii] [poetry and prose] [2017-2019]
