We never talk about me.
No, we never talk about me.
We talk about how what I feel affects YOU,
But we never talk about me,
No, we never talk about me.
Sometimes I feel,
Like I’m about to implode,
Sucked in by the
Anti-gravitational pull
Of knowledge unspoken.
Of a need to share and connect,
And be made to FEEL
Like I’m of value,
That what I FEEL is of value,
That what excites me
Isn’t mine alone,
That what I know
Can bring you joy.
But we never talk about me.
No, we never talk about me.
Because YOU don’t like me.
Because YOU lack compassion.
Because YOU don’t like YOU.
Because YOU can’t admit,
That it’s all about YOU,
Trying to rescue YOU.
I’m not you.
But in defining YOU, YOU exclude ME.
And the shadows we cast
From the powerful sun
That shines from within us BOTH,
Scares us into submission;
Into a corner of suspicion,
Fearing we will go supernova
Because nobody gets to talk about nobody
Without fear, or threat,
Without sadness, or regret.
Without feeling as though,
We have done something wrong;
That we are left behind,
Separate from everything,
No matter how visible we make ourselves,
No matter how much we shout to be heard.
No matter how much needless emotion we generate
In our bid to be VALUED for who we are,
In our bid to be noticed in the ocean of faces,
That washes over our vision,
Obscuring our thoughts;
That makes our skin itch
With the sting of salt,
That encases our hearts
With its crystalline time,
In which our fantasies reside,
In which our desires slowly die.
We ride one wave after another,
On a journey of false destination,
On a journey of hope that
Becomes a path of stagnation,
Because we never talk about me.
Because it’s never just about me.
Phi 