I Want to Be Heard

Why am I heard through screams and tears?

Why am I heard at my lowest point?

Am I loud enough?

Can you hear me suffering?

Can you see me drowning?

Reach your hand out.

Hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay.

Save me from this hurt.

Don’t give me any more.

My pain is a guilty pleasure to many.

A whole catalog of 21 years filled with agony and torment at every glance.

Nonchalantly denying my feelings in front of me,

While snickering behind my back as I hear them.

Torture.

I am a long-running joke and I have yet caught the pun.

I am a tragedy that others find entertaining.

I want to be heard,

But how long would it take before I’m gone?