then you must know my face.
and maybe the heart that pulses, and beats, and pushes the color red to my cheeks.
Maybe you know my voice,
and maybe you know that noise that rings to your ears when I sing.
Maybe you know my hopes,
or maybe you know my dreams,
maybe you’re aware of the aspirations of warmth that my heart means to achieve.
But maybe you don’t care,
or maybe I am not aware of the attention you’re giving,
or lack thereof.
But, so suddenly and quickly do intentions make me sickly while ever so swiftly I’m brought to a lonesome feeling that I’ll never quite be enough.
But why can’t you just tell me the truth,
is that really so hard for you to do,
tell me in one sentence if you please,
tell me why before I beg on my knees,
Why am I nothing to you in your eyes,
why do the words I speak stop short and smack into an invisible wall that you’ve set here as a surprise that only seems to mock me and re assemble these feelings that I hoped to store away for at least three lifetimes.
Why don’t you speak to me anymore,
have you lost your hearing?
and your sight?
and your ability to speak?
Why have I become an imaginary creature that is beat down, so weak
like a defenseless beat down little kid, black and blue, against a wall.
Where have I gone in your eyes?
Where have I gone in this little world you’ve created, where I don’t exist.
I have a name, and a face and a voice and a heart.
I am not invisible.