How is it possible after so many years,
Nights,
Lights,
Fights,
Delights,
You don’t see me?
All of me?
None of me?
Some of me?
Me?
My pain is displayed upon my face.
Disfigures.
Ugly.
Marks.
Scars.
You don’t feel them at all?
Are you there?
Are you aware?
Do you even care?
You?
Days have past since the first burn.
A night
Another day
Again, a night
Too days, seconds night
Third is a charm
My heart suffers the greatest ill
Your lack of me and alone I am
With my devastated knowing of dirt upon my face
It is a disgrace.