If you knew the things I know,
Would you still be around?
Be around allowing friendship to grow,
Or would you burn the ground,
On which I stand,
And mark me with a cursed brand?
If you knew the skeletons I keep,
Would you have a bone to pick with me?
Break my bones, let my marrow seep,
Til the demons bleed out for all to see,
Screeching their song,
Of all the things about me that are wrong.
If you knew how invisible I’ve been made to feel,
Would you finally admit I’m real?
And not be like everyone of my past,
Making me feel forgotten, life moving too fast,
Feeling oh so small,
If only that gave me less distance to fall.
If I knew you, would I even feel this way at all?