Clear Enough

You want to know what’s wrong

I’m sorry

I don’t know how to say it

I’m sorry

But I tell you it all the time

I’m sorry

Something is wrong with me

Can’t you see it when I pick at my thumb till it bleeds?

Can’t you see it when I stare at my food without eating?

Can’t you see it when my leg won’t stop bouncing?

Can’t you see it when I don’t say anything at all?

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

It’s hard to talk about.

I don’t understand it at all.

It’s broken, my brain.

You’d think you see that through the filtered, themed, fake smiling selfies I take.

You’d think you see that when I say I’m busy but you know I have no classes that hour.

You’d think you see that through the way I cling to you as we hug.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

I guess I’m just not being clear enough.

Maybe I never will be.

Doesn’t matter cause no matter what

You’ll never see.