sometimes I wish
you would notice
that I'm not
alright.
can you not see
the storm raging
beneath my skin
swirling
around my bones like
black smoke
poisonous and acrid
dissolving me from
the inside?
I expect you to
see through my skin
like it was glass
even though
I turned myself
opaque
long ago.
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 10:44 AM UTC
sometimes I wish
you would notice
that I'm not
alright.
can you not see
the storm raging
beneath my skin
swirling
around my bones like
black smoke
poisonous and acrid
dissolving me from
the inside?
I expect you to
see through my skin
like it was glass
even though
I turned myself
opaque
long ago.
A poem dealing with the despair of not being understood when you're not giving people the chance to understand you.
