Muffled Crying

They heard my muffled crying 
and told me it would be alright. 

They missed me when I hid away 
but left me to my dark repreive. 

They saw my scars on those hot days 
and told me to put on long sleeves. 

They watched me growing gaunt and thin 
but figured I'd snap out of it. 

They saw the bruises hug my neck 
but said, "she wasn't serious."

They read the note I threw away 
and tutted. "So dramatic." 

They stood while fluids cleansed my blood:
an overdose. "but... just an accident?" 

They frowned when I deleted facebook - 
"but that's healthy, right?" 

They felt sick when I said "I love you"
for the first time in months. 

They were scared to ring my mobile
in case I didn't pick up. 

but    n o t h i n g   was said. because it's too awkward to talk about. 
            n o t h i n g   was done. because no one was told what to do. 
                 n o t h i n g  ...
                      n o t h i n g ...
                           n o t h i n g ... that sounds nice. 

They screamed when they saw 
the blood - so much, too much.

They cried when they realised
what the too-grey skin might mean. 

They sobbed when they read
the note they couldn't find. 

They always missed a loved one;
each day they wept and sighed.

They fell victim to a grief
that said "it's all your fault."

Even though the blame went with me, 
and didn't stay behind. 

In years to follow, guilt and regret
became their closest friend...

...and maybe stigmas now would seem
as much needing to end.