Sometimes I feel like a ghost screaming at the real world, longing to be heard.
All I want is for one person to turn around and see me,
to acknowledge my effort in just being,
And say “I hear you. I see you. You are real to me.”
Sometimes I feel like a hamster on a wheel,
running faster and faster but getting nowhere.
The world says “keep going, look how strong you are!”
All I want is to be told “it’s ok to rest.”
Sometimes I feel like I’m still sitting at the kid’s table.
The men look down at me with their patronizing gaze
and pat me on the head when I speak up.
All I want is to be told “you belong here with us.”