my cliche...so true...

I want you to see me cry,
to know me like that,
see the typed out life i'm leading;
to read me like the book i am.
Am i a poem,
a short story,
a novel perchance?
Did you get me,
did i make you wanna turn my page,
to read on,
to know what happens next?
Did i make you cry?
I doubt it,
i'm sure you didn't laugh,
didn't smile.
I'd bet you set it down,
confused.
This girl...this fragile little girl.
You never even knew me.

Questions...
How will her story end?