Cries pierce through my lips, my tongue like knives
as I try to get someone to listen.
But it comes off too sharp, cutting and slashing.

The rhythmic thump thump thump of my heart
begging someone to listen.
To see that I, too, am human.

Yet still, I go unnoticed.

So my hands come together, clapping – making noise –
drawing attention so someone can acknowledge me.
But they think I am praising them.
Giving a standing ovation for something they never deserved.

When my voice fails me, my tears come as guards.
To protect me.
And when the silence of my tears is louder than my voice,
only then do they notice.

But still, they do not understand.

Photo: Irasonja on