The Truth

I can act so kind, genial
And docile
When I know
Something’s not right here, and
This is wrong,
Pretending I’m over it
Has been working so far
But deep down I’m angry
A hard core of rage exists
For what you did to me,
There are things I want to say, someday
And I tell myself I will…
Can I?
When, where, how, and what
Am I even expecting you to tell me?
Something that will make it all better
So I can forgive you guiltlessly?
Now I’m ready to talk about it,
Will you listen?

This left me confused. I didn't find it particularly easy to read, and got confused as to whether you want to talk or you want answers. Or do you want both? What is the problem, what did he/she do to you? How can I sympathise with you as a reader if i don't know what's wrong?

Yeah...I see what you mean. It's kind of a "you had to be there" poem. This is a rather personal piece for me, so I'm not really interested in elaborating on it all that much. But, thank you for your feedback.