Through the lens

I see myself in you.
In the down-turned eyes and fluttering hands.
In the spoken words that fall like hail.
In the uneasy laugh.

I see the subtle ways you break yourself.
I hear the words with weighted meanings,
too heavy to hold your tongue.
I feel the pinpricks of conscious catastrophes,
doing damage to your fragile soul.
I understand the uneven ground beneath your feet,
the steady upward climb that never ends.
I am that too.

I've never really considered how it looks,
outside, to someone else.
I've always thought I hide it well. 
I'll have to reconsider.