Don't Dare Tell Me

You say I look fine. And I'm not mad.
There's nothing there to see.
Just pain etched into my face,
from which I'm never free.

I say I'm tired, you say sleep more,
but after nights of tossing and turning,
I don't feel rested, I feel sore.

I say that the pain is the worse I've ever felt.
You ask why I'm not screaming.
And why isn't there a a welt?
Well perhaps then I am dreaming.

X-rays, bloodwork, tests from A-Z
I wonder if this is my fault. I wonder is it just me?
But no there's more, there's people out there.
They toss and turn, and they feel the pain.
They know I speak the truth
cause really there's just nothing there to gain.

Why would I want to lose so much sleep?
Why would I want to cry?
Why would I want to just sit at home?
Why would I want to die?

Why would I want to never eat?
Why would I want to push people away?
Why would I want to take anything,
just to make the pain stop for one day?

So don’t tell me that there's nothing.
Because there's something wrong.
Stop accusing that i'm abusing,
as you have been oh so long.

I'm sick, I don't know why.
I don't want to hurt anymore
So either help and just shut up
or I'll be showing you my door.