You leaned in to peer at my wound, and I pulled back, worried
You might think I was exaggerating--
tiny gash, sufficiently addressed with a bandaid is all you'd see.
You'd think I was seeking attention
Asking for my case to be followed like a child
Whose knee is scraped and ego is bruised
You'd humor me with your pretense of concern,
Shaming me with your disbelief.