I Can't Tell You

I can't tell you.
I can't say why.
I feel too tired
and want to die.
I feel an ache
for something new,
but I care too much
so I can't tell you.

I can't tell you
even though you'd understand,
better than most.
You'd sympathise,
and comfort,
in the way you beautifully do.
You'd rationalise,
and tell me,
to trust my feelings for they are true.

But if I spoke
I'd break your heart,
so I'll shed some tears
and sleep and wake up,
to start a morning all brand new,
and I'll forget the petty silly things
that I didn't tell you.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.