As You Say | Silly Girl

Listening to the stories of others Like pages turning, examples of being told no That you can’t do it. You’re silly. Or crazy. Dream smaller. Safer What about that little girl Who sits in her college dorm The blank pages of uninspiring, captive Walls staring back at her Blinking their dry eyes as She tries to put the tears back in hers. Pieces of paper with jotted down notes Of inspiration- words meant to keep her going When things are at their worst. People telling her she can do it. You’re almost there, just keep it up. When all she wants to hear is someone tell her No. For once. You crazy person why are you Doing this to yourself? Breathe. Let a load off Your shoulders. The shoulders that no One can see are constantly caving Under the stress that loads 50 more pounds To your hardening back. Shoulders up to your ears Ears at their capacity, just like your agenda Someone tell me I can’t do it all That just sometimes, it’s wise to quit The things that are irrelevant and Holding you back like quicksand On a hot summer day, with only The appearance of hope. Someone tell me it’s ok Because you can’t just tell me I’m fine That I can do anything, When each day I feel as if I’m simply Going through the motions Checking things off my neatly organized List of things to do. Counting down until The fleeting moment when I might Have some time to relax And do my own work. Never-mind That “free time” you speak of I don’t have “me time,” I don’t watch television Or movies like you do. I don’t have time Nor would I waste it doing such things Don’t get me wrong though I need to be busy. Or else my mind screams So loud, until I’m forced to add more things Like a slave constantly trying to maintain A delicate yet impossible balance, because Forces just aren’t aligned in this dimension. But what have I done now? Again backed into a small Corner, leaving me begging for someone out there To notice that painted-on smile When did I get so good At keeping up such a nice facade? When just beneath That thin layer of skin a battle rages on inside my head There’s never a dull nor quiet moment. Things fight For my attention. Constantly getting scratched, clawed and Pulled in all directions. What you see is a smile Perhaps some days I’ll show drops of frustration But just a small amount because the world And people in it, can’t handle darkness or sad things. They like puppy dogs and bright painted skies They want to see happy people even when they aren’t. We brush problems beneath the rug and avoid Discussions other than Pink dandelions on a warm spring day But these teeth have seen the darkness and my eyes And hands have been a whiteness So please, for the love of God But only at that precise moment When I’m ready to hear it, when I’ve Already made the decision myself, but still I want to hear you say it To tell me it’s ok to not have everything, As you say, “under control”