You want words, hawk? You to try to put words to loneliness so complete, I have to travel six hours to be touched. You try to express a pain you've spent years suppressing and hiding and ignoring. You tell me how it feels to hate yourself for the person you've become, knowing that this is who you are. You tell me how you deal with all this and fight the bitterness that tries to push through, and with it the hatred. Now tell me how you feel when the few friends who do take time to talk to you delight in venting all of their hurts, griefs, and stresses into your listening ear. Do tell how you bear their burdens as well as your own. Tell me if you can how you do all this and still go through your day smiling, with words of encouragement to those who need it. Describe to me how you deal with walking past the knife section at Walmart and experiencing a desire to cut that feels like a knife itself in your gut. Put words to all of this, hawk.
Well? You have no words? But that's what you wanted me to do.
