To Understand, To Be Understood

They are, in how I see it, hard to understand.
They are, in how I see it, easy to ask for understanding.
They are, in how I see it, easy to blame.
They are, in how I see it, hard to say sorry.

They said I am ruining the fun, the moment they had.
Because of- what? Because I was trying to ask them not talking about that?
But then, what do I have to do when I am cringing, hating the topic so so badly?
Just. Stay. Laugh. Be quiet.
Like that?

Can’t I, even for a little bit, asking them for an understanding?
Can’t I ask them for not talking what I hate- deeply, sincerely?
I don’t even ask them to hate what I hate, nor to agree with the hate.
Just- allow me to not see it, to not read it, or to not hear it.
Can’t I?

Is it that fun to making fun of what people’s hate?
I tried to respect them.
I tried to just accept their rage, to admit the mistakes.
To say sorry for what they’ve felt, though I never meant that way.
To try changing myself, so that no souls will get hurt anymore.
To not say anything about what they hate, what they want to avoid.

They asked for respect, and I was, am, and going to give that to them.
But can’t I get a respect- just a little bit one for this?
Not because of the age, not because of the status, or anything.
Because we’re human, them and I.
Because humans are varied, and it is okay.
And moreover, because we’re, if I’m not mistaken, friends.

Can’t I?

liphz 2015.09.11
sad soul in a far far away world


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