I stand in the street and scream.

Drivers turn their heads,

Walkers briefly stare,

and their glances intimidate me.

Not because they looked, but because they looked away. 

I noted their attention,

so brief and indifferent.

It was never personal, their gaze,

the bustle of the street was so overwhelming,

No one really heard my yell.

Their indifference bothered me,

although unintentional,

so I ran from the street,

as far from it as I could get. 

So far, no eyes would reach me. 

And I screamed.

This time, at least I heard myself.

There was no care,

nor apathy,

only blissful isolation, 

because as long as there is no one to look, 

there is no one to look away.