The Invisible Girl Beside Me

Is she next to me now?

Are you talking to her? chatter chatter

What are you whispering? hush hush

Secrets don’t make friends.


I can’t see her,

I can’t hear her

and I certainly am not her,

but I know she’s there.

They’re talking to her,

not me.

I know they are.


They don’t notice me,

they ignore me,


I make a noise;

I cry out in pain.

It is only then,

that their social sensors

pick up my existence

and hone in.


When they hone in

a stage light is trained on me

and I feel warmth.

When I am alone in the darkness,

I feel cold.

I don’t like the cold.

I feel invisible.

But aren’t I supposed to be the visible one?


To get my warmth,

there has to be pain?

To get companionship,

there has to be pain?

Why do they need to feel needed?




But I don’t like pain.

Would it be better to be alone?

Should I brave the cold?





I will,

one brief light or shining moment

is not worth the pain.

A sliver of warmth

is not worth a seemingly endless cold.


I realize it now,

I’ve been swindled out of valuable time.


No one was ever beside me.

Other people were talking to me,

I just didn’t/couldn’t listen.

By prioritizing them,

I missed out on all the other lights,

just beyond the cranial rim

and through the eyes.


There is no invisible girl.

Or is there?

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