Long Forgotten, Needed Things

There is a girl sitting in front of me

I have known her for years and

Though we are not friends we

Are not acquaintances either

She is talking about something

But I am not listening to her

I am thinking about her skin

About her hands and her clothes

She is talking about a teacher

Not to me, no one talks to me

I don’t know if they ever have

I stand up jittery and put a hand

On her shoulder, on her shirt

It is a stiff cheap yellow fabric

I look over her shoulder to

The screen of her computer

But I am now thinking about

How weird it is to touch her.

How weird is it to touch her?

I say this out loud to no response

They do not hear me, I don’t know

If anyone has listened to me

In a long time. It has been

Even longer since they’ve touched

Not in any longing way

It has been too long since

I’ve had friends close enough

to hug, and talk to, and know

And be known and be touched

I have isolated myself for so long

I have forgotten what people feel like

They have forgotten me, too

My voice, my ears, my eyes, my hands

They do not care what I do now

I am no one to them, not even a

Stranger or an acquaintance

Or god forbid a friend

I am a known entity they don’t need

To care about, they never did.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741