I am lost.

I am lost in the

Spaces between words

Rather than words themselves

My voice too meek for anyone to hear

Or understand.

 

I am lost underneath

The people that engulf me

Because my presence is expendable.

I am alone with the wind that,

like me, is never seen.

 

Interruptions are consistent

Because, I suppose,

Words that come from my mouth

are not worth listening to.

Or understanding.

 

So I write

In hopes that eyes that will function as ears

And you will listen.

Listen to me.

I am significant.