Don't Ask Me...

Garbage

Don't ask me to be brave
or tell me to be strong.
For then I have to live up
to your expectations in order
to get your approval and support.

Only sometimes brave,
perhaps appearing too strong.
I just don't know
how to fall apart with dignity,
I need to be in control
or I'll lose control.

I am fine when you ask
because I sense your withdrawal
and disappointment
when I dare to tell the truth.
You seem stuck
in a spot of embarrassment
and indecision
and I am left
with having to rescue you -
when it's MY guts
that are hanging out.
You are uncomfortable,
don't know what to do or say,
so you stay away.
You'll never learn that way.
It's always up to me.

But I am unable
to make excuses
for you anymore.
I'm not interested
in skin-deep "nicey".
Nor will I allow you
to put me on a pedestal
where I have to live up
to the image of being an inspiration,
because I've been through so much
and seem to be doing so well.

The fact is -
you don't allow me
NOT to do well.

This is really separating the trees from the forest.
.