When the world turns away, no one sees your pain. Your tears go unseen, your cries go unheard, and you are left in the company of your misfortunes.
You are locked away with your mind as it begins to destroy you. Your thoughts turn against you and beat you into an unrecognizable form. But no one else cares to look, so you’re the only one who knows it’s happening.
When the world turns away, it is up to you to heal yourself. You have no form of comfort, no feeling of safety. It’s as if you are hanging off a ledge and a crowd is just above, but looking the other way. They don’t reach down to you; they don’t even glance at you. By staring into the distance, they are not burdened with worries and a feeling of obligation to help you. They are not filled with guilt when your hands finally slip and you start your descent into whatever lies below.
If they notice you at some point, it is already far too late for help to be given. A tear might be shed, some nice words might be spoken about your loss, but nothing will change and bring you back. Nothing said as an afterthought will give life to the lifeless.
When the world turns away, you feel like a whisper lost in the wind. You are present, but you blend into the background. It’s as if no one notices your presence, and no one notices your absence.
You are a shadow in a dark room, a ray of light pointed toward the sun. You are a drop of water in the ocean, a grain of sand on a beach.
When the world turns away, everyone is absolved of the responsibility to help you. No one sees, so how could anyone have known?
