Against the Grain

This is me A guitar with no strings A glass half empty A bad bean The blackest sheep I am in pain Inside I howl like a grieving mother Like im decapitated and now my limbs are off. I am in pain just like that But why cant I ever be felt? Its terrible Spilling what is bottled up inside Vulnerable is sad Cry is disgusting Because no one will ever be ready for the truth So you get ostracized for being weak Excluded by people that mattered to you Then the big question is... Why? But they say its all in your head And the more you demand, beg for it... It just doesnt work that way. Reality hits you hard when you least expect it. But whats striking is I never expect anything. I love, give, trust, make everyone happy. And at my downest, nothing was repelled. The sun isnt shining, and I hope it rains. Steady stares to nothing have come often. I am now familiar with my breathing patterns I can now distinguish the difference between americano and brewed just by its smell. I am evolving. Now sober and mostly alone. A little silent but more resilient. I dont want to feel but not be numb I dont want to hear the talking but I despise the silence. I want to hide but Im begging to be found. I am vulnerable but I’m safe to touch. I am real... but why no one can ever really see me as much?