Would you notice

Why do eyes find the scar upon the skin,

yet overlook the fracture hidden within?

‎Then what of the pain that leaves no bruise,

unseen because some never know that certain wounds

‎burrow deeper than the flesh,

where no bandage can reach.

‎Perhaps they have never known such pain,  I wonder.

‎A wound of the flesh may fade into a scar,

‎while the heart remembers every cut.

‎Has it ever occurred to them, I wonder,

‎why must every wound be named

‎before it is noticed?

‎

‎I long for the one

who will read the storms behind my eyes without a word.

‎the one who would ache for me,

the one who would warm their hands at my brightest flames

and tend the embers when they dim.

‎Perhaps silence is mistaken for healing,

‎perhaps the pain exists because it matters to me

‎I wonder whether indifference is kinder than hope;

then I long for the comfort of indifference.