you used to think that whenever you were in pain
someone would come running quickly
burst open the doors and comfort you as you cry
like your mother did when you fell off your bike at seven years old
but as you grew, and suffered pains of the heart
you discovered that people don’t see those
quite as clearly as pains of the flesh.

even when you’re practically begging them to see
if you don’t say the words out loud, no one can hear you
no one listens
and when they eventually find out and ask, why didn’t you tell me
you hold back the words i did
for shouldn’t your fingers clawing at your skin so hard blood drips
or the bags under your eyes from thoughts that won’t stop racing
or the apathy you show to everything you once loved
be enough for them
all the evidence they needed is marked on your body and your mind
scarred in a way that will never fully heal.

and when the phrase why wasn’t i aware filters into your blood like poison
the sentiment of you should have told someone weighing like bricks upon your shoulders
the pitying looks that never truly go away
you try to tell them you tried
but the words lodge themselves in your mouth
and they stay there in your throat until you suffocate or give up
there is no in-between.

“actions speak louder than words”
but it’s (almost) funny how blind people are to actions
that are not their own.