not ready (this isn't about you)

sorry for me?
you feel sorry for me?
how could you,
why would you!

i had thought you my friend
perhaps you've misunderstood
and your intentions were good
and the words just came out wrong
--yes that must be it.

but those tears squeezed from your eyes
so hesitant to appear
tell a different story
one i'm not ready to hear (i'm too tender)

please don't use me as your sad (i am NOT)
excuse to flush out your own feelings
they deserve their own place of honor
you've got your own work to do

i feel used to be taken as your handkerchief
you've violated my process
taken my new found power
(its such a delicate thing)

and yes, this is the reason
i've been in hiding
(i tried to explain)
my distortions of those
who say they care
(i'm so raw).

here slips a bit of his twisted reality
that taste of mistrust,
that paranoid viewing, yes
i've caught a touch of his flu.

a new thing for me
i've been always so trusting
so ready to forgive--
I'll give you the benefit of the doubt

its why i'm in hiding
this strange paranoia
it must be the ptsd talking
i'm sure

yes, maybe i read too much into
your comment, too much
into your tears, forgive me
(i'm working on it)
it felt so contrived though,
you've left me confused.

perhaps you have difficulty expressing
yourself. maybe you thought it would help.

or perhaps you think taking my
feelings as your own (you don't own them)
could help me(don't use me)
its sympathy (don't use me) i don't need it
don't use me like that.

i'm crawling back into my cave now
i'm clearly not ready to come out
more nursing of wounds,
more trying to heal,
yes clearly i'm not ready for you yet.

--bruised orange