no
i will not fake a smile
no
i don't want to come
no
i'm not okay
yes, every fibre of my body, every ounce of my blood aches
yes, i opened my shell only to have the pearl stepped on
yes, i have feelings, real ones, and no- i'm not afraid of them...anymore
yes-i want to run away, go on my boat, float into the sunset, but i am stuck, no- can't go far, the sails are missing, gone, torn, stolen, tattered, beaten, dead.
no-it's not fair, nothing is, and likely won't be, yes- i hate that, yes- i wish it weren't so, but it is, and i can cry a river, but my boat still won't sail, not far enough
no- i won't use an ore, i don't want a motor, and i refuse to call for help, yes- i like being stuck here, with no sails, no-movement, just afloat, in shallow tears, for as long as it takes
yes- my boat could sink, and yes- what a shame, but no- i don't care, i can't, it's too late
yes- the path is the right one, the captain is steering correctly, but no- the weather conditions are wrong; rain, wind, snow, ice, the boat can't compete against evil forces of nature
alas i've lost count of the yes' because that's just how it goes.
instead i'm stuck in the dead end waters of no, no, no, surprisingly though i know i don't belong, i like it, because like a painful bruise, it feels good to apply pressure where it hurts, to make sure i'm alive. i am alive arn't i? yes? no?
maybe
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