Thoughts and Things

I keep to myself most of the time

When can I finally speak

without waiting and changing things as I go

so that no one will know?

When can I tell a story,

a simple anecdote,

without having to substitute words?

When can I tell someone what I was thinking

without having to pause and wonder

if my words will come across right

or if they might reveal 

some tiny truth?

When can I speak without fear

of judgment?

The sad part isn't fear of judgment

by my peers,

I couldn't care less about what they think.

I don't care whether she approves or not.

But my home is a safe haven where I can curl up beneath the covers

like a frightened little girl

and hope that things will turn out alright,

and my bedroom is my lair,

my secret base.

I won't bring her anger,

her misunderstanding,

her loud voice

into my lair.

I won't.

It's my only safe place.

She can ruin everything else,

but she can't get to my secret base,

and if I were to say anything like that

she'd take it as an invitation.

Hell, she already takes my silence as an invitation.

My room is my haven

and I won't let her ruin it for me.

It's the only place I can be alone

and I do want to be left alone

(at least, I do when my only alternative is her)

so I'll keep the doors locked for now.

Yes, sometimes I do crave an argument,

a good debate,

but not like that,

not all the time.

She'd never rest,

and neither would I.

Silence would be charged with anger

and even simple conversation would be tense and strained.

I think a teacher I had once called it "unnecessary stress".

Maybe when I'm older,

maybe when she's not around so much,

I'll say something

and it'll feel like a weight's been lifted off my chest

and I'll slam the door in her bewildered face

and never have to see her again.

Until then,

I've only got my bedroom,

but it's still under her roof.

I have to tolerate her

but it doesn't mean I have to love her.