On the Act of Caring

No one cares unless you're pretty or dead
No one listens unless you're mental in the head 
No one find you unless you're lost on the shelf 
No one recognizes you 
till you become a stranger to yourself 
No one writes unless you're Useful or broken
No one paints until the pains given inspiration 
No one can feel you until you're dying 
No one can know until you start crying 
Emotions got a deadline 
I fall fast 
Solitude in the factuality
I know they don't see I'm dying 
Blind Sighted, long periods of hiding in this mask 
They took and they took 
What else can I give?
I'm not valid till 
Im pushed three steps into stress too far off the mental cliffs
What's it take to make people see you can't always survive 
Among the lions? 
Trying so hard to be transparent enough to see the sun shining 
Right through me I wish they would take a glance at the light 
And see how long it stays
Sometimes I lose my own sight 
And I'm back inside the fray
What the hell do they expect 
From a little girl like me?