Simply Not a Clue

Sometimes we expect far too much from one another

--we expect to be understood, loved, and wanted


we expect too much from one another?

We cannot even understand why one cannot understand another.

It doesn't make sense. But you should've understood.


Especially when I told you exactly how to understand



but you didn't, you didn't listen.




You didn't understand because you couldn't hear.





Or was it that you just wouldn't listen?
You couldn't feel the pain that I felt,

but I told you that it touched every nerve.


You couldn’t hear the thoughts in my head,



although they spoke loud and clear.




You couldn't see the person I saw in the mirror,





but I saw her everywhere.






And you could not step inside my mind







but I couldn't step out.
So does that mean it did not exist?

That eating disorders are a lie.


Does that mean I made it up?



A story simply that of a fable.




What makes you think its okay to judge me?





To tell me how I feel is a choice that I made?

Even when a psychological disorder is certainly not a decision

from experience, not a choice anyone would make.


So what makes you think it’s okay to judge me?



When you have not a clue as to how I feel.




You don't know who I am;





you don't know anything about the life that I live






as a bulimic.

Because no matter how well you think you know me

my mind is a different place than yours.


You do not think the way that I do,



nor do I think the way you do.




You don't know what it's like to be me.





I don't know what it’s like to be you.






So how can you believe it’s okay to judge







when you have








Simply. Not. A. Clue.