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BEING SEEN
<p><br/></p><p>Darkness...</p><p>That has become</p><p>the language of my days,</p><p>and the companion</p><p>of my nights.</p><p><br/></p><p>It walks beside me,</p><p>without invitation,</p><p>without mercy.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then...</p><p><br/></p><p>for a fleeting moment,</p><p>I saw</p><p>a little light.</p><p>It was not loud.</p><p>It was not bright.</p><p>But it was enough</p><p>to awaken hope</p><p>sleeping inside my chest.</p><p><br/></p><p>Enough</p><p>to make me believe</p><p>that maybe...</p><p>someone</p><p>finally saw me.</p><p>So I tried.</p><p>I reached.</p><p>I climbed.</p><p>I fell.</p><p>I stood again.</p><p><br/></p><p>I smiled</p><p>with a heart</p><p>that was quietly breaking.</p><p><br/></p><p>I buried my tears</p><p>beneath borrowed laughter.</p><p><br/></p><p>I fought battles</p><p>that never left scars</p><p>the world could see.</p><p><br/></p><p>I gave</p><p>until there was</p><p>nothing left</p><p>to give.</p><p><br/></p><p>All...</p><p>for one thing.</p><p><br/></p><p>To be seen.</p><p>Seen</p><p>by the people I love.</p><p><br/></p><p>Seen</p><p>by the people</p><p>I would choose</p><p><br/></p><p>again</p><p><br/></p><p>and again.</p><p><br/></p><p>But they looked...</p><p>without seeing.</p><p><br/></p><p>They listened...</p><p>without hearing.</p><p><br/></p><p>They stood beside me,</p><p>yet never noticed</p><p>that I was slowly</p><p>disappearing.</p><p><br/></p><p>I became</p><p>an old house.</p><p>Still standing.</p><p>Still breathing.</p><p><br/></p><p>Yet forgotten.</p><p>Dust gathered</p><p>where joy once lived.</p><p><br/></p><p>Silence</p><p><br/></p><p>became my closest friend.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then...</p><p><br/></p><p>the little light</p><p>went out.</p><p><br/></p><p>Hope</p><p>folded its wings</p><p>and disappeared</p><p>into the night.</p><p><br/></p><p>Now...</p><p><br/></p><p>darkness</p><p>has returned.</p><p>Not because</p><p>Light never came...</p><p><br/></p><p>but because</p><p>I could not</p><p>carry it alone.</p><p><br/></p><p>Tell me...</p><p>How long</p><p>does a heart</p><p>keep knocking</p><p>on closed doors</p><p>before it stops believing</p><p>someone is home?</p><p><br/></p><p>How long</p><p>does a soul</p><p>cry in silence</p><p>before silence</p><p>becomes</p><p>its only voice?</p><p><br/></p><p>Maybe...</p><p>being seen</p><p>is not about</p><p>someone looking</p><p>at your face.</p><p><br/></p><p>Maybe...</p><p>it is someone</p><p>choosing</p><p>to understand</p><p>the storm</p><p>behind your smile.</p><p><br/></p><p>Because</p><p><br/></p><p>the deepest loneliness</p><p>is not</p><p>standing alone.</p><p>It is</p><p>standing empty </p><p>in the middle</p><p>of people you love...</p><p>and praying</p><p>that just one of them</p><p>truly...</p><p><br/></p><p>sees you.</p><p><br/></p><p>Barby Solace 🫡🖋️</p>
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