Your words impact me like a tsunami of hurt and burden.

“You're strong, so you don’t need my help.” 

Makes me weaker, but more resistant to telling you the truth.

If I was bleeding from my head, I wouldn’t tell you.

Like a hurricane you would sweep through and make it worse.

“You’re strong, I know that you are.”

Makes my house break one by one until nothing resides.

Why do you assume I am strong, when I ask for your help?

Should I toughen up and be proud of my wounds-

instead of licking them and letting them heal?

You ignore my whines and instead hear annoyance in my breath.

“You are stronger than you look”

Does that mean that I don’t need help or want to feel safe in your arms?

Maybe I just want to feel a loving touch and a whisper of;

“It will be okay”

But whatever, I will endure the pain.

I will be stronger.

My walls will be higher.

When I am in need I won’t run to you; 

Is that what you want?

Me, to lie about my wounds; just to deal with them on my own?

Me, to feel weaker by the second with no one to turn to but my own understanding?

Me, to cry in my pillow; so I won’t wake you from your peaceful slumber?

Me, to be stronger in your eyes but weak in mine?

Fine, I will be silent from now on.

With nothing but the wind to accompany my pain and hurt.

I will be strong, until I unfold like a wave in the sea;

I will come crashing down.

Leaving you with nothing to say; but...

“She was strong”