no i don't talk about it any more,
no I don't, I no longer store
away sad poems in my unread drafts
rather I distract myself with these
colourful crafts
with work, with words, with images
in thirds- I just endure silently
yeah, I just pretend everything is okay
when in actuality I'm still suffering
when in actuality it's hard to get through the days
sometimes my eyes, they betray
this reality, that somehow I managed to create
(elsewhere) they glaze over
they reveal
what my sealed mouth would never say
it's hard yeah, I hafta say, honestly
sometimes my eyes, they betray
this reality, that somehow I managed to create
(elsewhere) they glaze over
they reveal
what my sealed mouth would never say
it's hard yeah, I hafta say, honestly
sometimes I wish I could lay
down all my defences and just be
but every time I try,
my scars begin to bleed
every time I try
I almost forget how to breathe
-another unpublished draft-
