Apology

I struggle to write about happy moments;

I fear it will stop me from living in them.

The Unwelcome Companion

Wetness licks my hand.

Perhaps my puppy—your puppy—our harrier—is seeking a playmate—

I see no wagging tail, lolling tongue, or wide puppy eyes.

It is the rain, accompanying my lithe body—I dance along the cobbled street—

I sit at my desk in the artificially-lit room, surrounded by electronic hums.

You are beside me, telling a joke—bringing tears to my eyes—

You and me—together—laughing so hard—

Your silence is palpable; your invisibility, pungent.

Another tear smudges the ink before me.

I wipe my face, trying to whisk away incrimination.

I count my blessings and tell myself I should be filled, brimming, overflowing with—

Joy—Joy—Joy—

Thankfulness—

Excitement—

Anxiety

Fear

Dread

Guilt

Emptiness

Empty—

Empty—

Empty—

—Tears.

Lost or Hidden?

There it is again:

Be weird.

‘Write about happy things.’

Be random.

This image depicts

Be who you are.

my loneliness and desperation.

Because you never know

But why hide those words

who would love

when I display

the person

this picture?

you hide.