Who is me?
I don’t know who me is.
There I stand, in the corner.
Darkness shields me, warm like a blanket.
I watch them pass, each without a care in the world.
What do I do?
I remain still.
Not one sound is uttered from my being.
Who is me, I ask again?
Me is unseen.
Nobody understands me, they never will,
Nor will I.
© Copyright 2016 Cris Ryen Blakeney. All rights reserved.