Just a few words

Nonchalance, nonchalance. Thats what you're full of. Little does the world know that here i am, sitting on the edge of my bed. I shed the tears you never cried when you were 10 because you were too busy calming you little brothers cry. I whisper the words you never said to your parents because they were always too busy taking care of what didnt matter. In the car, I smoke in the taste of fresh air that you didn't breathe in when you were 13 because your parents only let you slide down the windows when the smell of cigarrettes wasn't that bad. The pain you give to me is the one your parents gave you: the kind of pain that burns deep inside your skin and it goes through your bones and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts. From a man who has lived so much, I would have expected a wiser soul, but i guess you still carry the burden and you let everybody around you burn when you let out the flames. I don't want to think you don't care about me, because i know you do... but please, stop comparing my pain to yours, after all... Pain is pain, no matter which one hurts the most.