Fossorial

I consider her too often,
the pheasant girl,
as if she's the only one
Of course, she's not
There are the others
Those that actually recognize,
perhaps even love
And that's what I want, right?
But not them,
not now at least
It would be so lovely
for her to see me
But for all I know,
she does not
And not because I'm not right
I think I could be
and I'm not often wrong
Though, she doesn't know
How could she?
I'm invisible
I blend into everything
My outline is broken
against the background
She sees right past
All the worth,
the potential is nothing
if I do not make her see
But how?
How do I become visible?
Fossorial,
to one that looks
always to the sky.