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You can’t see it but I can feel it.

You don’t notice it but the subtleties are there.

You are grateful for my smile. The mask that I wear.

You don’t really want to hear about my pain or the agony I softly bear.

You can’t spot the quiet wince or the silence scream.

You can’t detect the delicate shift in my spirit. I know my energy has waned.

You won’t observe me gasping for air. I inaudibly stifle this panic.

You choose not to look too closely. I wouldn’t either if I were you.

You don’t want to see me for who I really am.

You want me to be well.

I want that too.