Archer

There’s this ache in my heart where an arrow pierced it

It’s bleeding as I write this now

If only a doctor would see it

I cannot come up with how

To show to you, to speak to you, in a way that doesn’t hurt

Because when I give in to my rage somehow it makes me worse

You cannot see blood on the floor, or my handprints on the wall

I am limping but at this rate I’ll soon resort to crawl

I gasp and heave, my vision blurs as I reach out for you

But you just walk past, without a glance, that’s what I am to you

I’m disregarded, I don’t exist

I am impossibility

How can I ever hurt myself enough so that you’ll see me

You cannot notice my pain when I have been struck

Like a harpsichord you play that bow, but next time aim at my head when you pluck