When you see me, you see the outer image of me.
You see the me I put out into the world.
What you don’t see is my heart broken into a million pieces you don’t see the effort I put in to stop from crying
You don’t see me trying to control my anxiety when I’m in the presence of another little girl.
you don’t see me screaming in the inside with anguish because I would give anything to have that.
You don’t see the fear I carry because I know what can happen in the blink of an eye.
you don’t see me fighting with everything in me to hold on to her memory, her face, her smile the sound of her cry, and the sound of her giggle.
You don’t see that I am not longer me sure I look like the person you once knew but, on the inside, I am completely remade.
You don’t see the love that overflows inside that wrestling with the pain. you don’t see the constant battle to not relive the trauma of that day.
You don’t see me trying to snap out of because every so often a glimpse of her lying on the autopsy table with her head stitched open will pop inside my head.
You don’t see me in desperation trying to preserve the memories of her being here because the nightmares of her leaving taunt me at night.
You don’t see why I hide from friendships and relationships with new people because of the fear that my reality will become too much to handle.
You don’t see me grieving in silence, breaking down, and falling apart.
You may see me, but you Don’t See Me