I am hurting.
My pain can’t be seen.
The is nothing visibly wrong.
Even my scars are hidden, tucked away inside,
Impossible to view unless you cut me in two.
Every test comes back normal.
Everything looks healthy.
I don’t look sick,
Not from the outside.
There is no cause.
There is no cure.
They hide my pain in silence.
They hide my pain behind a white curtain of shame.
They can’t find a reason why my body is dying.
They won’t try to fix the pain.
They don’t care to see me healed.
The world stepped back and watched,
While the doctors dug my grave.
They all sang praises,
When the doctors erased my name.
I sat alone, where they left me in the corner in shame.
I’ve been cast out for being in pain.
My honesty makes them feel bad, so they silence me.
They take away my voice with glee.
They banish me from speaking until the rumors of my pain become ghosts of whispers.
My pain is silent.
My pain is invisible.
My life is shut out, closeted away from the living until my troubles and I are nothing.
The pain withers my body into a shriveled husk as I lay there in solitary silence.
Now I am dissolving into a loneliness so consuming that I disappear completely.
I am silent.
I am invisible.
The pain is still there.
The pain never left.
They waited too long.
The pain was preventable.
If only they had listened.
They could have found a cure.
I wasn’t incurable.
I wasn’t invisible.
The world looked through me, until I wasn’t even there.
You looked past me, until I was less than air.
Now I will be invisible forever, because they just couldn’t care.
My pain had a name.
My suffering had a cure.
It just wasn’t worth it,
to expend energy to fix me,
Because I was nothing
