Jun 8 • Share your Poems
Hidden In Plain Sight
The hardest part isn't hurting.
The hardest part is realizing that the people who swear they know you best can watch you fall apart piece by piece
and never notice you're breaking.
So tell me...
How do you not see it?
How do you look at me every day and not notice the pieces of me that have been falling apart for so long?
How do you hear my voice and not catch the exhaustion hidden between the words? How do you listen to me speak without hearing all the things I'm too afraid to say out loud?
How do you not notice that my smile has become a habit, a performance, something I put on for everyone else because it's easier than explaining why I can't seem to carry myself anymore?
How do you not see the way my eyes linger a little too long on the ground, the way I stare into nothing when my thoughts become too loud, the way I go quiet when there's too much inside me to put into words?
How do you not notice the nights I barely sleep, The mornings I struggle to get up, the way every day feels like I'm carrying a weight no one else can see?
How do you not see the hurt I've hidden in plain sight?
The jokes that weren't really jokes. The "I'm fine" that wasn't true. The moments I stopped talking because I knew no one would hear what I was actually trying to say.
How do you not notice that I don't talk about my future the way I used to? That I don't get excited the way I once did? That some days I am only surviving, not living?
How do you not see the loneliness?
Not the kind that comes from being alone, but the kind that comes from being surrounded by people who never look closely enough.
The kind that settles in your chest and makes a home there. The kind that follows you everywhere, even into crowded rooms, even into conversations, even into the arms of people who swear they care.
How do you not notice when my heart is breaking In ways that leave no visible scars?
How do you not see the tears I never let fall, the words I bite back, the questions that keep me awake long after the world has gone to sleep?
How do you not notice that I have been asking for help In every way except saying the words directly?
Because not everyone cries out loud.
Some of us become quieter. Some of us disappear a little at a time. Some of us smile more. Laugh more. Pretend more.
Some of us master the art of looking okay.
And maybe that's why you don't see it.
Maybe you've grown used to the version of me That says everything is fine. Maybe you've mistaken survival for strength. Maybe you've looked at me for so long that you've stopped seeing me at all.
But tell me...
How do you not notice the sadness in my eyes, the heaviness in my heart, the exhaustion in my soul?
How do you not see all the reasons I'm not okay when I've carried them openly for so long?
How do you not notice when every part of me has been screaming silently for someone to finally ask,
"Are you really okay?"
So tell me...
How do you not see all the reasons I'm not okay when they're written in everything I do?
And how do you not see that the answer has been written across my face, my voice, my silence, my actions, my entire existence...
All this time?
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Hidden In Plain Sight
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