You tell me to speak,
but I really can't,
you are the one who makes me weak,
and pain is something I no longer want,
you make me feel sick,
about who I am.
there is nothing more I could be,
but me,
and if I speak,
and tell you I am weak,
what would you say,
what would you tell me,
that everything would be okay,
that I am good enough as me,
well its called compromise,
and I think its a word disguised,
the word goes by the name:
lies.
