Do you see me?
Am I still here?
If so, why treat me like I'm not?
I exist, too.
I have my own feelings, thoughts, and tears,
or do those not matter to you?
You're supposed to be my family,
my blood.
But right now,
I would rather be related to mud.
It's all fun and games,
as long as you're not hurt,
but as soon as I start to fight,
you take away anything I have for defense.
I hate how this feels,
I hate how this is,
you have the right to change it,
to have a better end.
So, why don't you?
Can't you see I'm in pain?
Or, do you not care,
because you're too vain?
If I was gone, if I ran away
you would only seek me
so that you have your slave.
Do you care?
No, I can clearly see you don't.
YOU ARE READING
Sure, Thanks, I am Fine
PoetryDepression Anxiety Insomnia Heartbreak Unloved Crazy Scared Joyful Happy Bullied Everything listed here is something I've either felt or gone through. As have many others. But is it easy to say out loud? No, it never is.
