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If I Were a Girl, Would You Listen?
He doesn't cry in public-
he's learned to bleed where no one looks.
Where bathroom tiles keep secrets
and mirrors lie
just enough
to keep him standing.
he skips lunch again.
just not hungry, he says
but the hunger is real-
not for food
for someone
to notice.
for silence.
his sleeves stay long,
even in summer.
skin whispering stories
that no one ever asks to hear.
because boys?
boys don't break
boys don't shatter under the weight
of their own thoughts.
boys don't starve for control,
for silence,
for somebody
to say
"it's okey not to be okey."
They tell him,
"you're a guy.
You've got it easy."
but no one sees
the way his smile
hangs crooked,
forced-
like he's trying to convince himself
he's human.
he writes "help me"
in notebooks he never shows,
dreams of disappearing
without making a scene.
he's so used to being invisible,
it start to feel like peace.
and some nights,
he wonders:
if I were a girl, would you listen? Would u care?
would you ask what's wrong?
if I said I wanted to vanish?
he doesn't want attention.
he just wants to be seen.
not as weak.
not as broken.
but as real.
he is a boy
and he is hurting.
and that should be
enough for someone
to care.
about a boy.
Copyright ©
arno niem
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