the purple bags under her eyes
have to tell you something

the way her sad eyes have sunken in

the way her hair is always in knots

the way she has nearly stopped eating

the melancholy way she sings

the way she is always wearing sweats in eighty degree weather

how she hides behind a hood

and yet people don’t notice
how devastatingly beautiful she is
they don’t notice the way she laughs
how far and few between they are
and when she smiles
it seems she hasn’t smiled in decades
how sometimes she walks into school with
black streaks down her face
or red welts and a dark bruise on her cheek

because you don’t bother to notice
you’re so caught up in the future
and smiles
and happiness
you don’t notice the things happening around you
someone is crumbling
someone is shattering
someone is hiding behind a smile
someone is cutting their wrists
they’re suffering
they’re dying

how is it that you can’t see it?