Notice

At 4 AM

When even sleeping pills won't let me rest

I wonder

Would they even notice

If I was gone?

I wonder

If I died,

How long would it take

For them to notice?

I wonder

Does anyone even notice me?

The voices then strike,

Telling me that my supposed

"Friends"

Hate me,

That the skin on my arms is too pure,

That it should become

as broken as the rest of me.

4 AM adds red lightning bracelets

To the already very long list

Of imperfections

Leaving only one thing from before:

The voices' final echoes

"No one would know."