Is it

Is it in the way your eyes

travel the contours of my face

finding weakness

and flaw?

Is it in the way your concern

mocks me

ringing false

and insincere?

Is it in the way you wait

for me to fall

... not to catch me

...but to sigh...

And tell me how you knew

all along

I was too damaged

to belong?

Or is it in the way I feel ashamed

too scared to stand

and demand

you hear me

and let me try to be

who I choose?

Is it that you just can't see,

I'm human, just like you?