Why don’t I tell you of the tears that stain my pillow?
The hurts and fears that seem too big to share.
I don’t expect your help in carrying my pain.
Why invite you into my ongoing despair?
If there were easy answers,
I would tell you of my need.
Then we could rejoice when I am fixed,
And everyone be happily relieved.
When the brokenness endures with no end in sight,
It is asking too much of you to continually care.
When the only thing I have to share with you is pain,
I want you to be free of the burden I silently bear.
And when you ask me how I am,
I will answer, “I’m fine, and how are you?.”