Grief has erased even the belief in my existence; now to whom should I say that this scar is the mark of my wounded heart?

The poet captures an overwhelming sense of despair where grief has not just broken him, but completely eroded the certainty of his very existence. He carries a deep wound on his heart as proof of his suffering, yet feels an unbearable isolation—for if no one even believes he truly exists, to whom can he show his pain? It is a touching reflection on how immense sorrow can make a person feel invisible to the world.