its a silver brocade
of embellishing words
their eyes go through her
like she wasn't even there
its not a bad thing, she realizes
being almost invisible
she likes watching instead of being watched
fading into the white background noise
but one morning she wakes up and finds
that not even her parents can't find her
and that she is blind spot in their vision
because their eyes go right through her
she enjoys the completely invisibility and completely ambiguity
but slowly she fades
well and truly fades
into the nothing
a nagging voice in the back of her mind:
if you don't speak up
and use your voice or make yourself be seen
you'll fade-fade-fade
so she faded-faded-faded
into nothing more than a ghost
so she became the voice in the wind
not even a shadow left behind
YOU ARE READING
a dreamer's anthology
Poetryi make myself obsolete stringing words across my skin, follow me on my journey through the dark wood of my mind
