Respect, the ability to feel ok
with me
the ability for me to feel ok with me
with you
The ceasing of your crazy
that ability you have to make me
not feel ok
an unkind word, a quipped response, click of the call ending
And I’m left behind
not feeling ok with me, with you
trying to make myself feel ok
I rage internally
a seething, unquenchable yearning to be ok
with me, with you
A yearning that cannot be spoken of, that must be contained
within my rage
Your actions swept under the rug
Never to be spoken of, forgotten by you or rewritten in your crazy
which makes me crazy
my rage, red hot, bursting at the seams
pen to paper, writing out the longing,
the need to feel ok
no longer works
I cry, scream, yell at nothing,
at everything, except
you.
Unspoken, the air pregnant
with words left unsaid
hurtful actions perpetuated in your crazy
Leave me unable to feel ok with me,
with you