in-visibible

Feeling unseen is a lifelong experience. As though where “I” am there is fog. As though where “I” am there is deepest night. Sometimes I’ve let this feeling be truth, amplifying it by wearing beige at my wedding or draping myself in oversized clothes that disappear what is underneath. Other times I’ve tried to fight it, holding up billboard-sized neon: “See me!” Yet even these do nothing; the spotlight remains elsewhere, my proprioception of visibility tingling madly with nothingness. I yearn to give anyone near me Xray glasses so they can view the wonderous cacophony happening inside, the ideas bouncing, the reflected beauty inspiring. All of it so clear from in here. None of it observed, understood out there. I sit with my own glasses smudged, propped on the ground next to me, looking into the sunlit grassy valley, reminding myself that this, too, is seen only by those whose eyes have adjusted to the right frequency.