The Tip of the Iceberg

February 6, 2011
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I don't cry when a sad movie's credits roll.
My tear ducts are dry while others are full.
I don't weep at romance novels where the heroine dies.
I'm not the kind of girl who just rolls up and cries.
Here's the thing- Don't you know?
When you see me around,
You don't see me at all,
Just a wavelength of sound.
Just a fleck of dust from a mountain's rubble,
The tip of an iceberg, what's hidden is the trouble.
Guess what? I'm disaster.
I holler and weep.
At night, I'm haunted,
Images in my sleep.
I've stolen things I didn't need.
I've even made my sister bleed.
So i can say, without a hitch-
Yeah, sometimes I'm quite a b****.
But when a sad movie is playing in theaters,
I won't grieve or even groan.
I don't want you to see that-
So I wait til I'm alone.

I get my wish in the end, as I always do.
I end up alone - yippee? - and you don't have a clue.

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