Invisible

Invisible long poem

Photo by August Brill


What does it mean to be invisible?

Is it when others have no problem
talking over you during school,
have no problem looking
right through you into something
they personally find worth
paying attention to?

Is it when you feel nothing but pain,
like the sharpest, most malevolent void
inside you, that no one notices,
waiting to be taken away
by the absence of misery?

Is it when all you do is exist
in the cruel world that no one
seems to understand, a
cruel, unfixable world
that God himself
is surely ashamed of?

Is it when you feel like
you are no one, no one
that would be missed,
no one important,
no one even worth
seeing or speaking to
or no one worth missing?

But you couldn’t be
invisible to anyone
but yourself because
there is nothing
in this world that could
actually be invisible.

And what are you supposed to do
when you are the person you
are invisible to, the person
you are not worth it to?

How does one make themselves
see that they would be missed,
that they are loved in this
cruel, indefinitely hard world?

My darling, it is a cruel, cruel world,
but you are even more cruel to the person,
that you see every morning in the mirror,
and they say before you can love anyone,
you have to learn to love yourself.

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Alex Whalen

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I'm just an angst filled teenager who happens to write a little poetry here and there.
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