It's Nothing

It's Nothing by Amy Swanson 12/2008 Lost in my thoughts you ask me what's wrong (I hate that question) I smile and say "It's nothing" but really it's something... The sum of far too many nothings that sometimes knock on my spirit's door. Totality of all the grandly glaring loudly unsaid things that build the wall (we hide behind) that is between us. Memories of hurt that you don't even see or maybe you refuse to see. Memories of hurt I've tried to erase but like a stubborn stain they will not go away So many things that should be said between you and I... but never are. A simple question is precursor to loneliness emptiness misunderstanding And so... when you ask, I know just what to say. It's nothing. Time has taught that telling you my fears my worries only cause an angry hurt between us. And so... I simply leave it unstated. It's nothing. But there are times when all these things come crashing into me (so strong) like waves descending violently upon some far away, sandy shore Why won't you see? Why do you refuse to see? But in time the pain subsides, retreating to the furthest corners of my mind, my soul waiting for the time when they will surface yet again. Never mind me. Everything is fine. I'm just lost in my thoughts... Really. It's nothing.