What does it take to be heard
I was always taught that it was talking
both clearly and respectfully,
wiping the emotion from your voice
so they never know how they heart you,
the truth of what they did.

I've never been heard though
when I try to do as I was told,
my discussions only called for
when it's accompanied by tears,
until those are seen
I'm invisible and trying is futile

Are you together now?
I know the love you had
,grandma,
for a dog you never met,
so much so that you filled your house
with pictures and ceramics
of this dog,
who's ball you had never thrown,
head you had never patted,
heart beat you'd never felt

My dog never knew of you
of your warm smile
but I like to think that she knew to look for you
in a place I don't believe exists,
I hope she can tell you love her,
I hope she knows that you hug her for me,

I hope that every time I cry
is I time that you feel truly happy together,
then Ill know that you'll be happy forever.

I stare at the camera shutter
as it opens and closes slowly
a flash of light,
encapsulating this time,
these seconds, minutes, hours, weeks, months,
years.
It can all change so quickly
or so slowly.
So dreadfully, painfully slowly
that minutes seem to last forever
that years seem a while life time away

So as the lens stares back
at my smiling cheeks
at my red eyes,
I wonder how long this will last
and in a while lifetime,
I mour what could of been, what will never be,
most importantly what I long to be

Until the pictures taken.

After my tears had fallen
their path all dried up
my eyes less red
less puffy, less full

I thought of my problem
how I could not fix it now,
only with time will it develop
for better or worse

How many times have I cried in my life?
All the issues I've encountered
that felt like the end of the world
but I'm still here after

I spent so long staring at the clouds,
I forgot the sun existed.

I used to be academic
people would call me bright
smart was always the first description of me,
it came before everything
so I was always on tope of my work
with high grades
even though I was naturally average

I would pride myself in this
and others would too,
I was always happy
knowing I'd made my parents proud

now the new year hasn't even started
I still have two days left of summer,
somehow I'm already behind,
questioning all my subjects,
feeling hopeless and alone

I used to scrawl my words on paper
writing twisting lines until my hand ached,
turning grey from the pencil lead

I liked how the scribbles showed my work
erasing and reforming
until I thought I'd found the correct words

Now I write onto my phone,
tapping buttons on my notes app,
deleting my mistakes with ease