she sees me,

i know she does,

the watchful eyes,

the “are you ok?”,

“are you sure?”

and it hurts,

almost like she cares,

it hurts,

when i almost believe her,

“you can talk to me”

can i?

no.

if i talked she would know,

beyond all reasonable doubt,

pain communicated through excuses and foreign tongues,

if i talked,

she could prove it was real,

i don’t want it to be.

does she care?

why?

“are you sure?”

i’m not,

i can never talk,

not to her,

not to anyone.