It's Just That-

(with no apologies; it's just that
you wouldn't understand
and to explain would remove a bit of the urgency
of the angst
and that just won't do today.)

there are things deep down
under the paper skin and candy face
that would turn you sick
if you knew.

now don't get all upset, with the fluttering hands and furrowed brows
and the tired put-on sitcom concern-

it's not like that.

it's just that really, after all
what can you do?

stand beside me, parceling out your tastes of god
whichever one you claim, it doesn't matter
in bits and pieces
laying them in my palm
to consider
(but not judge, not ever, heavens no)
with my company smile and murmurs of concurrence
weighing them against the truth
you call dissent
only to have them wrapped back up
and handed back to you
slightly soiled
and reeking of something that makes you almost
want to think-

no thank you
but i appreciate the thought
on some level where i appreciate such things

i'll find it someday i'm sure.

or speak to me of strength and wisdom
throw shreds of my life at me like confetti
making a party out of things
that should have long ago been burned

or simply tell me
chin up, girl
it's all right
no worries, k?

so you see it's better now
if you just shut the hell up
and let me breathe.