It's Nothing
It's Nothing
by Amy Swanson 12/2008
Lost in my thoughts
you ask me
what's wrong
(I hate that question)
I smile and say "It's nothing"
but really it's something...
The sum of far too many nothings
that sometimes knock
on my spirit's door.
Totality of all the
grandly glaring
loudly unsaid things
that build the wall
(we hide behind)
that is between us.
Memories of hurt
that you don't even see
or maybe you refuse to see.
Memories of hurt
I've tried to erase
but like a stubborn stain
they will not go away
So many things
that should be said
between you and I...
but never are.
A simple question
is precursor
to
loneliness
emptiness
misunderstanding
And so...
when you ask,
I know just what to say.
It's nothing.
Time has taught
that telling you
my fears
my worries
only cause an angry hurt between us.
And so...
I simply leave it
unstated.
It's nothing.
But there are times
when all these things
come crashing into me
(so strong)
like waves descending violently
upon some far away, sandy shore
Why won't you see?
Why do you refuse to see?
But
in time
the pain subsides,
retreating to the furthest
corners of my mind, my soul
waiting for the time
when they will
surface yet
again.
Never mind me.
Everything is fine.
I'm just lost in my thoughts...
Really.
It's nothing.
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