to see not with the eyes,

to speak silently,

words absent of sound,

or, perhaps,

to dream awake,

a reality far too complex,

for us to ever grasp it,

even when we hold on to it,

like when a kid holds a balloon,

for the very first time.

whoever I am,

whatever I may be,

will never suffice.

the expectations and their judgment,

sinks deep in to my core,

and, has they look at me,

I feel like a prey,

looked down by its predator.

if my existence ever mattered,

I was never aware of it.