It's Gonna Be A Little Vague

I don't even know what to say. What I feel is hurt and sick, tied into one. I want to run so far, just jump in the car and drive. Drive to till all I see are the stars and sleep with the trees. If I open my mouth no words come out. It's air but its short and I'm silently gasping. For such a short time I have learned so much. And what I have learned is like a fist to the stomach. My stomach. It's punching and twisting and leaving me ready to walk out. Walk out on you and everything. Walk out because you are doing it again. I can't muster the strength to speak for I know the words would scream. Exclamation points would roll off my tongue and I'm really not sure you would get it. And if I did open my mouth and the words came out, there is always that possibility that you could twist everything and turn the finger on me. It's my fault I'm not spoken to in the same manner; not treated the same; not given the same respect. No, I'm really not sure you would get it. Though I don't know how long I can sit here and want to cry and kick and scream.... and leave.