You do not know me.

You do not know my inner thoughts,

how I feel when I wake up,

What I think about before I go to bed

and after waking up,

You do not know how I feel when there

is not a smile on my face

You do not know the thoughts I

face on a daily basis.

You think you do but,

You do not know me.

You do not know me.

You do not know me and I do not

know you.

Why?

You do not know

how to ask questions.

You do not know how much

I wish for you to ask me questions.

You do not know what I’ve experienced

and you do not care.

You do not know that what I crave the most

is to be accepted, to feel like people care about what I have to say.

You do not know how much I hurt,

how much you hurt me.

You do not know me.

You do not know me.

You do not know how scared I get at night.

You do not know that I am always

holding in a scream.

A scream of anger,

of horror,

of fright,

of stress,

A scream for help,

for compassion.

You do not know me

because you do not ask.

You do not know me.