They don't see me. Ever.
I'm just in existence. I hold back their hair when they vomit. I distract their little brothers and sisters. I listen to them bitch about how much of an arsehole their boyfriends are. I let them cry. I let them crash at my place if they need to.
They don't see me. Ever.
And those that TRY to only see the strange person with the herbs and they don't know if I'm cursing or protecting. They only see the person who knows that paedophile is spelt with an ae and that the fear of books is called bibliophobia. They only see the strange person dancing naked because the moon is full. They only see someone who appears to be talking to herself. It isn't real. They just THINK they see.
They don't see me. Ever.
They don't see the person who knows something about everything, because that way she can help. They don't see the person who learns first aid because she let someone die. They don't see the scars on her arms. They don't see the scratches and the cuts. They don't see her crying in P.E or Math. Or English. Or Science. They don't see past her breasts. They don't see compassion. They don't see the smiles that are just in case they notice she's not ok. They don't notice the blood pouring out of the girls changing room.
They don't see me. Ever
But I can see them and I am always watching. Because there will be accidents. Someone will get hurt and I will be left to pick up the pieces. Even then, they will not see me. And even then, I will want to help them. Protect them from the harsh cruelty that is this. And still.
They don't see me. Ever.
The whole time I was writing this, I was praying that he would read it because I'm drowning and I don't mind so much. I gave up because of the way you looked at me when you saw what I'd done. I gave up because I couldn't stand your calmness and your eyes when I gave up on myself. You tried, but in the end, I couldn't pretend I was fixable. And you ended up like the rest of them. You stopped seeing me as I was and am. You were blind to my condition. That's ok, but it hurt when you ended up as a they.
They don't see me. Ever
Do you think that if I died they would see me as I was when I waited?
Because I don't. They won't see me, they won't see my tears or my blood or my eyes when I realise there is no point in waiting. There is no point in explaining. There is no point even, in this blog. Because, just as they don't see me, I expect them not to see this. And that is why the water is running red.
They did not see me. Ever.
