On Kindness

Scars trace up and down her arms

a blade to cut the pain

a razor to slice the vein

a thin sheet of glass

between you and she

She hides behind it

her true self

where only she

can see the smudges she’s leaving

she wants someone to see

to care

to help

but is too afraid to ask for it

The kindest thing you can do for me

is to listen to the words

that I am not saying

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