You say you want me to speak my mind,
yet you want me to shut up and be a good girl.
You say you’re there for me if I ever want to talk,
but you forget to mention that they can only
be about subjects you like.
You say I need to relax,
and yet,
you push me down a deep hole of stress.
You say I should let go,
as if the bad plant is easy to pull out of the ground.

Newsflash!
The roots are dug deep inside,
clutching at the ground
not willing to let go.

Newsflash!
I want to talk,
but you keep on stitching
and sewing,
stitching and sewing
my mouth shut leaving a nice finish
so the thread doesn’t ever let my real thoughts
leave my mouth.

Newsflash!
The stress will never leave until
the washing machine in my mind
that has been running for five years
will finally stop its cycle
letting my thoughts be clean again.

Newsflash!
You want your words to be source of comfort,
but how can they be comforting
while they slice me up into smaller pieces.
Smaller pieces.
Smaller pieces.

Newsflash!
The girl I supposedly used to be
is still here,
but she is dug deep in the sand
waiting for that one hand to pull her out.

Newsflash…
You try to help,
but
you are stuck
too caught up
in your own
fallen jungle gym

that
only lets you see things
but not act on anything.

that
leaves you clueless
as to how you can help me.

that
traps you in so the only thing
you can hold out
are your hands.

But they don’t reach anything.

When will you set yourself free?

When you actually do,
then I will still have this one lingering thought;
when will you finally let me be me?