I say no, once again.
"But why?" They ask.
I try to come up with a lie.
I fail. I simply shrug.
"You're such a bitch."
I take the words to heart.
It's true. I should just say yes.
I should help. I should get up.

I say I don't want to.
"Shocking." They say.
The bitter sarcasm cuts so deep.
I'm sorry! I truly want to.
Please believe me!
"You're so selfish."
I agree, I am terrible.
I wish I could just say yes,
I could help, I could get up.

I say I'm not feeling well.
"Whatever." They say.
They are so sick of my shit.
"It's true! I'm ill." I plead.
But they don't understand.
"Stop lying." They walk away.
I wasn't lying, though, for once.
I hoped I would just say yes,
I would help, I would get up.

Shoulda, coulda, woulda.
Those words are slowly,
So very slowly, killing me.