Surrounded by everyone, yet I remain unseen,
Heard by no one, invisible.
Amid the din of laughter, my words dissolve,
Unacknowledged, stripped of dignity.
Each silence carves away my sense of worth.
You can talk, yell, scream into the void,
But no one lifts a finger to help you.
You yell into valleys and plains—silence echoes back.
Part of a group, a long-sought pack,
Yet every effort feels like a mountain to climb.
I hear the sneers of those who should be close,
Not friends—just echoes of mockery,
Or the relentless chatter that drowns me out.
Nothing else, just the pain of being unseen.
The quiet swells and I fade, can they even see me?
If they don't see me, how can they care?
In this ever-growing silence, can I sustain myself?
Everyone seems amazing. Are they?
They wear smiles like masks—
Bright and polished, yet brittle beneath.
Perhaps beneath, a tide of hatred flows.
Do they hide it, or are you simply blind?
Their perfection casts my flaws in sharper relief.
In this cold reality, a truth unfolds—
You will never succeed, your dreams a distant mirage.
The silence shapes you into something terrible,
A reflection you barely recognize.
And yet?
Their silence shapes me into what I fear most
A shadow of my dream, do I even exist if I remain unseen?
I have never sought to end my life—
Such actions feel beneath me.
But pride alone cannot drown this silence.
Am I less? Am I saner than those who do?
My quiet misery matters to me.
Alive, yet unseen—does my life matter
If no one knows me?
I shine brightly, yet I am engulfed in shadows.
Am I really alive if only I can know me?
My mental health is perfect.
I am the happiest among them.
Am I? Can happiness survive in this silence?
Have I truly ever been happy?
I deserve understanding, yet it slips away—
No validation, no dignity.
Am I destined for loneliness forever?
Have I invited this loneliness again?
From nothing to new nothing,
Have I truly escaped the hell I knew?
Alongside the pain, pride swells
A deadly war for my broken soul
You tell yourself you’re a wonderful person,
but you don’t believe it.
You claim to be helpful, kind, cheerful.
You vowed to yourself that you would be—
A beacon for others yet lost in your own shadow.
You stumble under the weight of your own needs.
Every effort to be virtuous feels futile,
Not enough to save your soul.
A mirror reveals cracks you refuse to mend.
Shame coils around you, a shadow you cannot escape.
Even in the eternal night of my broken self, hope flickers
A struggling spark, lost in the dark expanse
Despite the darkness something burns
A dream that you long to watch grow
A dream that you long to nurture and care for
But through the broken glass, my vision distorts
Fragile unrecognizable unable to see its beauty
Shards shatter jagged and sharp
Unnoticed, unwhole, unseen
Is my suffering deserved?
Have I caused my pain?
Self loathing cannot mask the pride that swells
Their eternal war is still not louder than the dreadful silence
I know I am destined for more than dirt or ****,
Yet all I see are my shortcomings.
The silence shapes me into what I fear most
A shadow of the person I long to become.
I am nothing, noise in the background.
Were you meant to be important?
Actions speak louder than words, yet I stand still,
My voice lost in the roar of those who hate me—
Or worse, those who never even see me.
I am doomed to live in my quiet suffering
shattered and unseen, drowning in the suffocating silence