This

It was the way he looked at me 

Every time after 

It was the way the piano music was all I held on too 

It was the intensity 

It was knowing I had no way out

I was trapped and I couldn’t come up for air or love or freedom

I feel like that often now, and yet my reality does not reflect it. 

I can see his face sometimes

And my performance? All for nothing 

None of it meant anything 

None of it changed what he did 

None of it made him love me 

None of it made him see me 

And I did everything I could, every single thing I could think of

And it never made a difference