Invisible

Hey! So, this is the first poem I'm posting on here. There are others along the same dark route (some darker). Is it ok? Bad? Etc.? Thanks!

I know, I’m invisible.

I don’t speak in class.

I  wear dark colors.

I sit in the back.

I make myself as unobtrusive as possible.

I’m afraid if you notice me,

you’ll talk to me.

You’ll try to be my friend.

That’ll never do.

I’m not meant to be loved.

I’m not meant to be cared for.

I’m a rug.

I sit there and have people’s filth drug across me.

I have no feelings anymore.

My soul is as dark and deep as hell.

I don’t matter to you.

I don’t matter to anyone.

Honestly,

who would want a bipolar, sexual assault victim in their life?

I know I’m not important.

Go on with your day.

I’m invisible again.

Reviews

[RileyRedding]

This is tragedy on par with Hamlet.
But it's also beautifully emotionally honest.
Suffering builds character.
Keep up the great work.