The feeling of walking to a wall We’ve been through this a billion times,Yet you still don’t “get it,”The luxury of observing meLike a rich politician at the Freak ShowA privilege I didn’t inherit.Apathy cannot be found in my DNAThough it is dominant in your genetic makeup.Which explains why every accusation is disguised as a question.When will you realize that this isn’t my fault?You have to understand that I won’t findThis missing puzzle pieceIn vodka bottles or flashing disco lightsThere is no salvation in one more casual friendshipThat makes me lonelier.I’m just disappointed that I couldn’tFind my refuge in you. I remember how you screamed about the dirty dishesBut when I sat you downAnd told you that I thought about suicide,You simply blinked at me.I was hoping this would be a three-way conversation,Between me, you, and your sense of humanity,But I guess it was simply a two-way conversation.Speaking of which, where was the passion that allowed you To call me stupid?And say that I should simply smile more?“You’re such a pretty girl, why are you so sad?!”Since in your eyes I was decent looking, I was no longer allowed to feel.You saw that I wasn’t too unfortunate looking,So you ignored how unfortunate I felt,You insisted I be somethingEasier for men to consume,Easier to swallowAnd more bubbly.Speaking of bubbly,When I was drunk the other night,Tears tumbled over my cheeks,Thinking about how much I hate youFor your strange ways of loving me;At family gatheringsThe way you grimace,The way my skin feels washed and shrunk,You don’t care that I locked myself away in the bathroomTo hide from you.The way that I made good enough gradesAnd played well enough at my piano recitalsThat I couldn’t possibly want to rip myself open.The way that you walk out of the room when I start to cry. And then you wonder why I don’t tell you these things. And you repeat these questions over and over,You and I are like broken records,I the blues tune, you the bubblegum pop,And our melodies could never harmonize.I think that’s why I’m so afraid of you;Not because we’re different,But because we will always be dissonant. But the worst question of all,You asked me where my head was –When I bawled my eyes out and laughed out loudIn the same hour,You asked me “where my head was” – When my eyes decide to water up, When my lips decide to tremble,You asked me “where my head was” –When my mood swings became the ride of my lifeAnd my depression became my best friendYou ask me where my head is-Don’t you know?It’s all wrapped up in you.