Sometimes it's so much easier
to say that I'm okay
than try to explain
the source of the pain.
Somewhere,
my point is always lost.
My words jumbled as I try to talk.
Sorry I forgot
what it was I needed to say.
Inside of me something breaks
and I feel the shards in my throat,
pushing their way out so slow
and before I know
I choke.
And I spit out confusion,
things that I don't mean.
And I don't know why.
But it always leaves me
with the bitter taste of jealousy.
I envy those who speak clearly.
I envy those who can make sense,
because even though I try,
I can only speak in mess.
