You’re right,

I don’t want to say anything.

At least not to you.

Or anyone else for that matter.

Much safer to scribble in a journal.

Blue ink doesn’t tug at my lips,

and ask me to “elaborate.”

If I duck my head and scribble like note-taking,

I can just keep nibbling at my hangnails

somtimes I pull a little too hard

and then I cover it with a tinker bell band aid

and leave it alone for a few days.

But soon enough I’m worrying at it again

but if I were to talk,

If I took the time to explain it,

I”d bite my nails to the quick

and keep pulling them apart

until there was bleeding raw skin around each finger

and a pileof flesh around my shoes.

“YOu have kindled a fire which only a sea of blood can extingush.”

The battle raging within me

may not be nationwide

but it’s a civil war that

will take my sea of blood to douse

If I pull that hangnail

the fire we kindled may finally be extinguished

and the wolves within that you once told me about

will tear each other to shreds

so you’re right.

I’d rather not say anything.