You Do Not Know Me

You do not know me, you never have.

You do not care and I fear you never will.

When I got new piercings I thought you would notice right away. You did not.

When I struggled to walk from pain in my knee I thought you would care for me. You did not.

When I could not leave my bed for days due to the weight in my chest I thought you would see how weak I was. You did not.

See, I learned from that moment onwards, you would come when I called but you would never see me if I did not ask.

When my new piercings got infected I knew you would not notice. I was right.

When I overworked myself I knew you would not care for me. I was right.

When I did not eat for days I knew you would not see how weak I was. I was right.

Maybe it’s not fair to expect you to notice and care for me with me asking. But I have to ask, when will you notice how grey and ashen I have become?

If I held my breath until I was blue in the face, would you notice me then?

If I carved my skin from my body until there was nothing left but bones, would you care about me then?

If I tore my heart from my chest and presented its bleeding mass to you, would you finally see how frail my corpse is?

Maybe you would notice me once death had claimed my soul. Crying of my absence but speaking only of what I had done for you.

If people asked you what I had loved and cherished, you would not be able to answer.

If people asked you what I had hated and despised, you would not be able to answer.

If people asked you what I had feared and shied from, you would not be able to answer.

You do not know me, you never have.

You do not care and I fear you never will.

Even when my bones are rotting in their grave and the worms have burrowed into my coffin, you will still say how selfish it was of me to leave you alone.