Monday, February 20, 2012

Invisible Woman

The calendar changes and the days tick away... I move like a ghost.  I cry out, I bang doors, just hoping someone will notice me, that someone will see me and acknowledge that I am here.

A cog in the machine... nobody notices it until it stops working, and then only long enough to fix it.  Then, it's back to obscurity until the next time.

It's all the same.  The comparisons are endless, but it's all the same.  I'm invisible.

I hate being invisible, but I don't know how to fix it.  I want to be seen, known, appreciated.  Does that sound selfish?  I guess it probably does.  Some days I feel such a longing for a connection that I can physically feel my soul hurting.

I am invisible.

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