she told me to cover up the scars.
i told her
no one ever noticed.

she said that couldn’t be true.
but it was.

no one gasped.
no one asked.
they just looked through me,
like pain’s not real
unless it begs.

she says she doesn’t understand.
says i have no trauma.
i guess sadness needs a villain
to be taken seriously.

but what if i’m the villain?
what if the hurt
comes from me?
what if i broke myself
before anyone had the chance to?

what if no one saw
because
they never looked?