I wonder why sometimes:
Why no one cares
Why they don't see.

Mostly I figure it's because they don't want to;
They just don't care enough to see -
See what's actually here.

I'm seen as a well rounded person:
Intelligent,
Courageous,
Stoic,
Kind hearted.

What I'm not seen as is:
Cowardly,
Frightened,
Breaking,
Hurt,
Weak.

I show off this mask.
I flaunt it.
I make sure they know what they're seeing.

They see it.
They believe it.
They don't care enough to question.

They say they love me,
But I know they don't.
How can they,
If they don't know me?

They love my mask ,
My facade,
My barrier.

They think it's real.
That I'm real,
Like this.

I'm not.
At all.
Not ever

I wonder why it hurts to see this:
Why it hurts to see them look at me like that.
As if they know me
And they don't.

I don't want them to.
I don't need them to.
I don't need their help.

But I'm hurting
And I do need it
And I'm waiting
For them to see me.

For them to look beyond,
Past it all.
For them to actually see me,
Before my barriers fall.

I can't stand it;
This waiting.
But I have to,
Even though it hurts.

I have to.
Because if I don't,
I'll just hurt more in the end.

I can't tell them.
It's not something that you tell.
Not something that's possible to tell.
Not something that should need to be told.

They should see it.

And they don't.

And that hurts.

But what hurts most of all.

Is that they don't want to see it.

They don't care.

They don't care at all.
 
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