The Grinch in Act 3

Sometimes I wish I didn’t have a heart

So that compassion wouldn’t feel like my rib cage shattering

And I wouldn’t have to worry so much about using anesthetic on empathy

To get through the day and find myself concerned with every thing I wish I said or didn’t say.

I wish I didn’t feel

So that I can swallow the harder pills and accept both common sense and common decency

Are, in reality, rare commodities

I wish I could hold my tongue

And bottle up my thoughts and fears and outbursts like a ship in a glass display…

But I don’t have the patience to have such a hobby

And I don’t have the thick skin to brush off the ashes left from the bridges others burn

I guess looking now, I’m glad I have a heart

Because I don’t have the stomach to live in this world without one