What did I say?

Oh, nothing.

It’s not important, anyway.

Funny, that sounds just like me:

It’s not important.

Don’t give me crap like

“That’s not true”

Or how I shouldn’t think like that

Don’t you think that maybe

Just maybe

I would feel better about myself

If you didn’t treat me like a piece of lint?

If you didn’t just brush me aside,

Didn’t push me away,

Didn’t flat-out ignore me?

Don’t you understand?

You’re killing me.

Every time you look the other way,

Every time you choose to overlook the words,

Every time you might as well forget

I’m even there,

A little bit of me crumbles

And I’m slowly falling apart.

Like a tower of blocks

It can only go so far before it collapses.

Or like the group of vowels.

A, e, i, o, u – and sometimes y.

That’s it

Only sometimes

Only those few sometimes

And nobody really thinks about it.

They don’t have time to think about

How Y might feel,

If the letters were people,

And Y only fit in on exceptions.

You all are the vowels,

And I’m Y.

Don’t you realize

That every time I’m confused

And you don’t bother to inform me,

It’s like I’m being erased?

Like I just take up space,

Space that isn’t worthy enough to be here,

So it’s okay to brush me aside

And get to me later?

And that all of that is actually okay?

Well, guess what.

It’s not okay.

You’re breaking-

Killing-

Erasing-

Squishing-

Pushing down

And not bothering to pick up again-

And still more.

More and more and more

And you still don’t know the difference.

Do you need glasses?

Vision-correction surgery?

Would a seeing-eye-dog see me better

Than you can?

Probably.

And I can’t tell you how much it hurts

To wonder it-

Think it-

Know it.

And now you ask me:

What did I just say?

Oh, nothing.

It’s not important, anyway.