If I sigh louder
will they notice?
At what decibel
will I sound damaged?
Do I have to scream
my hurts in their faces
to make them hear my pain?
To make them care.
My problems must air
in tears
and blood

The more you look
the more you see
little things
like a patch of red
amongst neatly clipped
chocolate hair
endearing little traits
pieces of a visual whole
that tie the vision together

My cries for attention
so loud
and tear filled
Ring in the ears
of only the willfully deaf

Nothing shatters
more easily
or
more painfully
than the
tender white hopes
of an unloved girl

My smile
so 'easy'
muffles the sound
of the scream
swirling in my chest
ready to tear through
my heart
and break past my
flashed teeth

I see you studying
the wall there
picking at the
old yellow paint
with your blunt fingernails
absentmindedly
transfixed
by the dapples in the concrete
What a wonderful seat
I've stolen
so close behind you
that I can see these
little lulls in you

Countless cards and
Infinite ink just
so that you might turn around
and flick your eyes up and down
the length of my body
and
spread a soft smile
gently
warm and honest
across your flushed face
you may turn right back around
bashful
so nobody sees
but I saw
and it was worth
every word