I'd never write a poem about how hard divorces are on the older child. 

I'd never talk about how much of a mom I had to be. 

I'd never speak of the times when I'd cry myself to sleep over my abbreviated childhood.

 

 

I'd never write a poem about the thoughts I think when I think no one can see them in my eyes.

I'd never let it be known that sometimes, I can't help but to relive the sad times.

I'd never share that wishing I were alone is stupid.

Because I already am. 

 

I'd never write a poem about the truth I refuse to let myself believe.

I'd never share how my mind rumbles with the possibility that this state of oblivion that I choose to live in, will one day have to be shattered by reality. 

I'd never speak of the way I wish I could fly away, to avoid such a harsh punishment for dreaming.

 

I'd never write a poem that explains exactly who I am.

I'd never want anyone to see how many scars lay beneath the surface of the skin I've convinced the world is tough. 

I'd never talk of the way that society tells me to love myself, while subliminally whispering that I am not at all good enough, in efforts to make me hate me.

And I'd never tell you that it's working.

 

I'd never write a poem to have a feeling that I am understood.

I'd write them to understand feelings.