Am I Unworthy?

They all bump into me,

As if they can't see me,

Like I'm invisible,

Or simply not worth enough,

To occupy the space I take.

This disrespectful rudeness,

The sheer ignorance,

The unworthiness expands in my mind,

And echoes in the empty spaces of my ribcage,

Hurting, poking, taunting, traumatising,

And making me question,

Do I really not belong here,

Am I really not worthy of the space I take,

Am I really a tissue paper,

To be used and thrown away like trash,

Rather than be kissed and preserved between the pages of the books,

Am I that unimportant like they make me feel?

Am I really not supposed to be here?

But, with whatever I have read,

Points me to one thing,

That if I'm alive to witness the sun rise and set,

To see the moons phases over and over again,

To be in the laps of the mountains,

To dip my feet in the rivers icy cold,

Then there must be a reason I'm here,

And something in me makes me worth it,

An important entity in my own capacity,

Then why don't you see me,

Why do you ignore me,

What is the thing that makes me so worthy of your pushes,

And unworthy of the respect I deserve?