Thinking

People always want to know
what I'm thinking--
or, at least, I want them to want to know
that.

But I can't tell them, because
telling the truth always results in
them attacking.
They're sick of dealing with me,
and that's perfectly reasonable,
but it still smarts a little.

For example, I wrote a long letter
that I'll never give to her,
but having written it, I feel sorry for her,
because I know she'd feel sad if she read it.
It's easier to be nice to her
when I feel sorry for her.

I want to ask
"What is the best way to go about this?"
but I know that no one will tell me the answer:
the thing that I want to do
is a bad, bad thing.

And I know it's wrong to be ashamed
of something that's good enough
for everybody else;
I know it's wrong to hate myself
for being something others aspire to be,
but

We will never escape from the thing
that is hanging above us.

When I do it, there'll be no
half-hearted, pansy-ass cry-for-help shit.
I'll clean the whole house, put cupcakes
on the table, and take the cat
to the vet; then I'll
make an itemized list of the unpaid bills
and lay it neatly near the place
where they'll find me.
I think I'll put down plastic
to save the furniture.

These are thoughts
I'm not allowed to think.
If I open my mouth to let them out
people scold me for being
inconsiderate, people make a big deal out of them
as if they weren't an everyday occurrence.
People are scared of the stupidest things.

I think they just don't want
to have to feel guilty later,
which they would,
even though my own decisions are my own responsibility,
and have nothing to do with them.
Someday, they're going to read things like this,
and think, "she was crying for help!",
which is stupid.

I don't want help; there's no such thing
anyway. All I want is to be able
to be honest about what I am
thinking
without having to backtrack, change
'round what I said to make it less
scary for everyone else, reassure
people who start crying, and defend myself against charges of
attention-whoring and "doing things that I know
will make people upset".

I don't know why I keep trying to express myself
--maybe it's an inborn trait--
when I keep learning, this week and last week and next week,
that nobody really wants to know me.

I don't blame them, though;
I don't really want to know anybody, either.
I just want to be known.