RUSH

When you speak your mind
It hurts
When you don’t
It hurts
You are torn apart
Every fiber of your being is going crazy
To the world
You look great
You laugh
You smile
Maybe crack a joke or two
Some say you look so happy
You acknowledge
If they knew
You are dying inside
You are bound
You can’t talk
Least you sound childish
It kills you
Slowly, gradually
You die a little bit each day
Until that day
You crack
Say something rush
To the one you love
You hear the frustration in their voice
It is not the first time
You have done this
They close the door
You are left alone in the cold
Shocked and ashamed
There is nothing you can do
To turn back the time
Take back that word
It was mean and nasty
Didn’t have to be said
You apologize
End up begging and look desperate.
How do I start?
To tell you where the pain is
How do I tell you?
What is hurting me
Where do I start
It will take a day maybe more
So I choose not to burden you
Call it pride
Last I want is to become a burden
And later a pain
This is not an excuse
Neither am I looking for sympathy
I am trying not to be rush.

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection