How I Write

I tell you that I'm shy.

Rather than helping me overcome it,

you use it to harm me because you know

I'm too shy to speak up. I'm silent, yet I write.

I tell you what happened to me.

Rather than sympathizing and understanding

my need for personal space and boundaries,

you crack a joke,

then completely disregard my words.

I'm silent, yet I still write.

I tell you that my mental health is

deteriorating, and rather than consoling me,

you give me ultimatums on how to

put my life together.

I may be silent, but my thoughts are not.

I write what my lips cannot bare to say because

I can't hurt paper with the words I wish I said

when you used my shyness to hurt me,

when you disregarded my need for boundaries, and

when you made my mental health worse.

The day I stop writing,

and the day I speak/stand up for myself,

are the days your feelings may get hurt,

instead of mine. But I'm not the type to

hurt your feelings. So for now,

I'll just write.