|
| |
UNSEEN IN PLAIN SIGHT
I am not quiet,
Not easily forgotten,
Yet somehow
Still unseen.
I feel it,
In the bones of my being,
This weight of being
Unappealing.
Not the kind
You’d walk toward.
Not the kind
That draws eyes or hearts.
It’s not like me
To say, “I hate myself,”
But sometimes,
That silence speaks louder.
Strangers
Faces I’ve never met,
Mouths that never called my name,
Eyes that never really saw me
Still, they judge.
They know me better than I do,
They say.
They define my shape,
My walk,
My worth.
And so, I wear it.
Their truth becomes mine.
And you
You’re beautiful,
Unique,
Undeniable.
You can see me.
I cannot.
And though it’s not like me
To admit this ache,
This shadow inside,
It is still me.
Still here.
Still hurting.
Copyright ©
diane locket
|
|