All you see is what's in front of you.
My melted brown eyes and messy brown hair to match.
You see the clothes touching the skin-
or better yet
the parts of me the clothes aren't touching.
What, you noticed my dimples when I smiled? And what do you hear?
Do you hear me howling when I laugh?
Do you hear my voice raise as I tell my story?
Listen more closely. Shh.
If you're quiet enough, you'll hear yelling.
Do you hear it?
It's me.
And if you look closer, you'll notice that there
are a hundred shards of shattered glass.
That's me too.
You didn't know that,
did you?
I'm breaking- slowly deteriorating before your very eyes
but you didn't notice- or you chose not to, at least.
I wish I were more like you.
I wish I could ignore the noise
and avoid looking at the broken pieces.
I wish I was as content as you are
knowing that I am ebbing away into nothing
slowly, but surely