Poem: Analytical but no Soul

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Sometimes being blunt
still cuts like a knife.
"I'm being honest.
I know you wouldn't
want me to lie."
That is quite true
but how you phrase it
can affect how
your 'truth' is taken.

You have no idea
They said that you
'cannot read the room'.
That you cannot put yourself
in another's shoes.
It is either right or wrong
black or white
and there is no such thing
as levels of grey.

It hurts to be
on the receiving end
of your 'honest truth'.
You pride yourself
on being direct, to the point
but you never see the tears
as you tear me apart
analyze everything I've done
'wrong'.

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