A Tragedy in Progress

I know you’re here to help;
for the voices that speak up,
you’re a savior to ones in trouble,
even sometimes the silent type. 

You listened to me,
And my small little matter;
struggling to fix what was already broken,
only replacing old tape. 

Trying to offer comfort,
the only way you know how;
muttering words interchangeable,
that soft ears are willing to believe.

Am I just a nervous breakdown?
About to become another statistic?
With a junkie for a brother?
Moved half way cross-country?

Your accusations anger me,
fueling the hurt;
telling me lies,
just to lessen the pain.

Words are empty, meaningless,
colored solid with broken promises;
Action holds truth,
For I hope they’re worth more
than a petty joke.

But I stand here,
transparent as can be;
waiting for the laughter,
echoing in the sound of my foot steps.