How to misunderstand

seems pretty easy, really.


you never listen to me when

I speak or when I sing or

when I write you letters where I

pour out all the poetry my soul has ever had

like it’s been all boxed up deep inside

a hallway of colorful, locked up doors where all my

words and secrets hide

behind the yellow door my deepest fears

and blue holds all my insecurities

and red holds all the love I’ve ever owned and

ever dreamed about

and I pour it out

but you don’t get it.


It hurts a little bit,

a lot

I have to say

for all the years you’ve known me

and yet

you still ask me what I mean

by my heart’s truest colors

and colorful truths

my painful love

and loving pain


it’s like I’m speaking Greek or

some dead and rotting language

when I speak to you


I say it’s love and you

say it’s lust

I say it’s true and you say

I never knew you


it’s buried down deep and desperately

shoved away

the hurt in my blue eyes

when you say you don’t understand me

but what did I ever do

all the words I ever say to you are true and deep and all of me

and all of me isn’t enough


I can’t survive this mountain climb

and stormy nights where I lose my footing in

the torrent of your apathy

and then I see a misty light and live for that

and all the crying doesn’t matter if you smile at me for just a second

three hundred sixty four days of dying inside

and just one of life, a gasp of breath

kept me long enough

too long


lost in translation of

false interpretations and

searching for truth in a basket of lies

like searching for a second sock to match

the one you hold so tightly in your hand

it’s white, just like all the other socks in the basket

just like all the lies


but there’s no such thing as a lie that is white

because white is pure

and lies are dark and rot my soul

and yours too

you’d see

if you’d take the time to self-examine

and even learn one little thing

about yourself

or about me.


how to misunderstand:

don’t try

don’t care

punch holes in sincerity

stab hearts with words of steel and eyes of ice

and don’t look back when I

walk trance-like towards a different light

of warmth where maybe

someone else will really

see me.