Perspective

I dreamt I died
and you didn't care;
it was just more drama
you didn't need.

It was just a dream
but it was also true.
It wasn't real
but it was still
me and you.

Why can't I
be drama-free
the way I am -
man-free, child-free,
success-free?

This is what you see
and think
and believe
right?

But this is not who I really am.

I don't fit the image
you've worked hard
to create.
I don't understand
how full your plate
stays
or how to save
and plan
and wait
for life to work
the way you need
it to.

I'm not in tune
with your needs,
your goals,
your pain,
your hopes.

They aren't mine;
they are yours
which is fine
until it's not.

I don't know you
the way you pretend
to know me.
I don't say words
out loud I can't unspeak.
I don't use my mouth
to shove your face
to the ground
when you're already
on your knees.

I don't turn your good deeds
into crimes
to justify my inadequacies
or anonymity.

I show up.
I stand up.
I shut up.
I shut down.
I take the blame.
I swallow the pain.

And I believe
if I was gone
a part of you
would feel relief.