Can You See Me.

All my life,  I remember whenever we went out to a show or play or even to the shops, we would be looking at the people around us.  Or even the people in the show,  begging, pleading with them with our eyes to please please notice us.  Please see us in the crowd. Please somehow see us and know that we are special and save us from the life we live.  Please please notice us and know that something is wrong and do something to help us.  We still do it today as adults and still no one ever does. 
When they don't notice as they never do,  we leave feeling we are invisible and not important, and that 'they' are right and we have no value. Otherwise someone would have noticed the girl/woman in the 5 row dying inside.
 But i guess we can't be seem.  

We Miss It

We spend a lot of time looking after others.  We tend to be the carer, the mother,  the sensible one.  The one who remains in control when others lose the plot. It's seems natural to us to be that way , but sometimes we are envious of those who can let go.  I can't remember the last time our Littles really came out. There is no one around who can really handle them,  so they stay inside. Not that they are hard work, but not everyone knows how to deal with it all. We miss the changes.  We miss having that place where they felt safe enough to come out. Deep down we want to be the ones who fall apart.  The ones who have scared Littles out and someone comforts them and makes them feel special. 

One Little Whisper

It's in the background.  It's in the words you don't hear,  the whispers.  No matter how hard you try, there is that voice that reminds you. ...you are worthless!  
You work so hard to belive a new truth.  To try to accept you may have value,  and then just when you think you may be getting there,  that voice reminds you, ' you are fooling yourself, you will never have value'. Without a second thought you accept the words they say.  After all if they were wrong, your life would be better.  People would like you.  You would have more friends.
 It doesn't leave,  it nags at you.  Finding you at your weakest. Hitting you when you are down. It is merciless, unrelenting, and once again you wonder why you are even here. 
One little voice.  One little whisper,  with so much power.