I Bleed Galaxies: An Ode To Battle Scars

I Get It

I speak and speak and you don't hear.
It's better that way, I think.
I cry and cry and you don't know.
There has to be a space you build around yourself.

I get it.

But then between the incessant babble and the silent sobs I hear myself.
A noise like a kicked puppy squeezes past my filter and slithers into my wet pillow.

And I get it.

You don't hear, but it's not because you aren't listening.
You don't know I'm crying because I don't let you see.
The space you build is not to distance us, it's not a barrier. It's a cushion crafted with me in mind.

I get it.

I want you to stay cushioned.
I'm letting it kill me so it doesn't poison you.