You may never know, why I am the way I am

or why I am so quiet at times, or maybe why I get angry so sudden

and you may never know why I am so rude

Why my words hurt more than a bullet between the eyes,

or why my glares are considered lethal, but I promise you

One day, you will know, and then, I hope, you can see me still

 

So many go blind to me, so many leave my side

When I tell them who I am and why I tend to lie about being, “fine”

They go def to my voice, when I begin to speak, when the only thing they can hear

is the sound of my heart feeling too weak, and, I hope, when you know about my past

That your eyes are still open and your hearing will always last

 

I have seen people lose me on purpose, I am not a small child in the mall

They like to think I don't notice, but I do when I begin to fall

I know I walk in my own world, where the clouds are always black,

but I need to know you will stay and you will never give me back

 

You may never know why I am the way I am

or why I do the things I do

But if I ever decide to say it, I need to know you won't leave me too

 

-Chloe Aldecoa