Maybe someday it's the sound of am ambulance that will make them see through me.

Maybe someday, it's my naked body laughing aimlessly in the street that would make them understand me.

Maybe someday it is the voices of the street kids having enough fun from my delirious display that would awaken what should have been awake a long time ago.

Maybe someday it is my lifeless body, my sad dead eyes that would make them read between the lines.

Maybe someday it is my mouth that would open in pain or maybe amazement and would never close again that would make them wish maybe they should have moved just a little bit closer to me.
Maybe it is the bubble beneath the water where I lay dead that would make them think maybe they should have looked deeply into my eyes when it still could blink.

Maybe it is when all that will be left of me is just spittle running down my idiotic face, maybe then they would wish they could have help in untying the chains that held me rather than leaving me all alone.

Maybe, Maybe, for now, no one sees me;
The tears
The explanations
The anger
The screams
The pleads
The silence
The roars
The actions
The words
The rage

They do not understand all these, it's a different language to them...

How can one communicate pain? Depression? Malady? Emotional fatique? How can one tell the world that they are truly tired? Weak and drained?

Everyone expects you to be strong, yet they are not in your head, neither are they in your hearts.

"I Can't"

You, the loner would scream weakly.

Yet, they won't see you, they will never.

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Image Source: Pinterest.

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My Pen Bleeds!