It's not my story.

It's not my story.
Yet, I'm the one writing it.
Why?
Because some has to.
Speak up.
Speak out.
Say it loud.
Be proud.
All things I've heard being said
to those whose hearts have bled.
But how?
Why weren't we ever taught how?
How do I speak up
when the world keeps yelling "Shut up!"
How can I be proud of being loud
when in all my years
my ears have only heard "Be quiet"
Look, I understand
that no one can help me
if I don't say life's in disarray
But, how do I say it?
How do I tell?
Who do I tell?
Now, that you know,
Now, that things have gotten so bad
Now! When everything exploded
and there was no way to hide the facts
Now you ask - why didn't I tell?
You never taught me how.
How could I have?

  - stop stomping on the broken pieces of my heart with your artificial righteousness.