It is simple, really.

So easy to just go with the tears, the outrage;

To kick the damned wall, rather than paint it;

To throw out the chipped china;

To cut out the worn spot in the carpet;

To ignore the crack in the sidewalk.

La la la la la – I can’t hear them, I can’t see them!

I cannot see you

That is the real issue, isn’t it?

You are not nearby.

You are not close enough to reach with the very tip of my longest finger;

Not close enough to hear me whisper your name.

I do not care that you cannot help me work, or pay my bills, or feed and clothe myself, or  put a roof over my head.

Those are all things that must be done regardless.

The worst of it is truly that you are not here  to hug with joy; to lean against in peace and safety; to enjoy.


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