I was sitting quietly –
you didn’t see me, or
perhaps it was like always;
it was more like I was
not there

never there, unknown
invisible non-offspring
you didn’t know
didn’t want to know
the me I was

way too much for you
too loud, too childish;
you weren’t allowed
to be a child, so why
should I?

So I sat, the not there,
sans all emotion,
feet still and hands
wringing silent pleas
unheard

eyes followed you, cast
down if I thought you saw;
much better to hide in plain
sight, not seen, not there
never there.

Image Credit:Annie Spratt

Julie A. Dickson is a poet and writer of YA fiction, based on personal experiences of bullying, mixed with fantasy and magic. Her poetry appears in over 50 journals, including Misfit, Sledgehammer, Open Door, etc. She is a push cart nominee, past poetry board member, advocate for captive elephants and companion of two rescued feral cats. Writers write.