Outsider in a Society Benumbed

I see you there


and sitting there alone.

living sequestered.

dying everyday.


I see you too,


and feeling empty inside.

yet knowing that no one understands.

but how can you tell them?


The people don't see you,


everything is fine.

everyone shows the exact same "signs."

"anyone" will ask for help.


They don't see you


with the hurt placed inside.

with the emptiness muffling your voice.

with the help that sometimes isn't.


I see both of you


for a reaching hand.

for understanding, compassion.

for anything to end the agony.


You see everyday these


blinded by Facebook and all their problems.

taught by the media about what good enough looks like.

so used to talking to a screen that they are socially desensitized.


You see them all and can't help


"How much do they see?"

"Will they ever see?"

"Do they even care?"


You see that


is relentless, boundless, and sometimes wreckless.

knows every person regardless of race, age, or gender.

is handled differently by everyone.


You see in each day


of your surroundings.

the way that you cover up.

the never ending gray you've come to know.


I see you too,


stalking like a mountain lion.

but no one knows you're really there.

slashing and cutting to some variably tangeable degree.


You don't see me,


I know the truth.

you don't see that you have worth.

it takes a confident self love to know that worth.


You don't see anyone while


 with Depression.

 but being pushed closer to the edge.

 and contemplating whether to let her snap your neck or jump.


I see that you've


shotgun slumber.

that they didn't see you.

that you didn't want to see them.


I saw that you were


with your pain.

trying to silently deal with it all.

living a life of sameness, hopelessness, and aloofness.


The people now see


their own problems for a minute.

days that they should have noticed.

memories that make them wonder.


They saw the surface but didn't


the muffled cries for help.

the echoed dry speed of a seemingly forgotten heart.

the way that your laughter became hollow and listless


Everyone sees


the beauty of the person they remember.

the way that you fought so bravely.

but wonder what they could have done


I see this perpetual


of others too busy running their own race to even bother.

of family and friends mourning "sudden" death.

of a society numb to what they nurture, but surprised by every suicide.

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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