the answer

"Why are you sad, my dear?"

My mother asks me again and again, 

But my mouth won't open; you can't hear

the words that are caught in a cold, metal chain. 

I can't tell her how hard I yearn

For the happiness to finally come back. 

I'm starting to think that I'll never learn

the answer to why my heart is black. 

"Why don't you go join your friends?"

My sister asks me when the sun is hot, 

But my hands are cold, and they won't cleanse

away the sickly stink of all my thoughts.

I can't tell her how hard it is to talk,

And how I don't want anyone to be around. 

I'm scared that I'll always be alone; a hawk

that never has a pack, and only plummets to the ground. 

"Why do you feel so scared?"

My therapist asks me for what feels like the fifth time, 

Sometimes I can't explain why I don't feel repaired, 

And why it feels like there's a million things on my mind. 

I can't tell her how scared I am

that even in the summer, I'll never be better. 

Now, I'm still struggling to stand, 

Scared that I'll only be okay if I forget her. 

But it's the person inside of me, 

I want to hide from her, 

And even with my destructive thoughts, 

I still long for the summer.