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.