creating constellations

don't you love her?

i love the way she laughs, as if everything has changed, as if all the pain has simply vanished, left for good.

i love the way she speaks, as if her vocal chords aren't strained from crying too hard into her pillow.

i love the way she always wears long sleeve shirts, as if it's a fashion statement, and not a disguise to hide the scars caused by people who told her to die.

i love the way she smiles, as if it doesn't take every ounce of energy she has to lift her lips that are weighed down into a frown.

i love the way that everyone is fooled by her facade, as if her eyes don't look dry from tears and her lips aren't cracked from biting too hard, as if they haven't heard her crying in the bathroom or caught her staring sadly at her wrists that ache so strongly.

i love how oblivious we have become, how we're too lazy or scared to notice that some people just aren't okay, and if we don't notice, how can we help?

we can't.