I see you alone
isolated in the crowd, I can’t help but
feeling your pain, and from my observation
my heart turns livid.
Walls close down as those around you
grow apart– all alone, a disorganized chaos.
You dangle, as bait on a hook,
all alone.
You don’t know my name, you’re far too concerned
with them.
But I know you, I know your pain. We know it.
You own me.
More than anything in the entire world, people want to connect. Some will make mass public requests, others will buy expensive things to impress people. Some will write letters, and some will end their lives. And even so, the one thing that people always say is simple: “will someone, just one person, please understand me!” Nothing hurts more than when people choose not to for whatever reason.
Knowing people is really expensive, and it taxes who I am. I want to become a mute. Even so, I want you to know me, to be with me, and to understand me. That’s why I write here; I keep the hope that even though you completely miss me in real life, you might catch me here. A lot of times, I think you do, but it’s a huge misconception on my part. You’re just doing your best to live, and worse, others come first. It breaks my heart, so incredibly much.
Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
missing me one place search another.
I stop somewhere waiting for you.