I want to be angry.
I want to scream,
And shout,
And kick,
And punch.
I want to push some of this blame,
Onto someone else,
Let someone else,
Carry some of the burden.
I want to yell at someone,
Because it just might,
Lift some of my own pain away.
If I can get rid of any of this,
This insufferable pain and loneliness,
Then I will.
What else can I do?
If I let it pile up,
Like I’ve been doing so much lately,
The weight of it will crush me.
But nobody thinks of that.
Nobody bothers to think of me,
Drowning in this deep sea.
They would only be angry,
If I tried giving away some of the burden.
If I yelled,
They would only show me coldness.
If I kicked and punched,
They would not show sympathy,
For the girl who can’t take it anymore.
Yet as I sit here,
Holding in all the anger,
That threatens to boil over at any moment,
What do I get in return?
No one notices.
Not so much as a “thank you.”
No acknowledgment that I’m trying so hard.
Nothing.
So why can’t I bring myself to scream?
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