Sharing Our Innermost Thoughts

In the end, no one really cares for me.

Enough to know I’m struggling and uncomfortable.
No one knows me that way, because people don’t look at me like they say. When they say hurtful words, and do wrong things on accident, they’d say they’re sorry. But none of that should have happened if they’d thought of me more.
I’m always kept in silence.
And no one joins me.