Glass

A poem for my wife, who is home right now and I whom I miss terribly.

Should I open up the curtains?

Is it night or day,

Is anything certain?

It's hurting,

And it worsens.

But I'll try to open up the curtains.

What day is it anyway?

They all bleed into one.

Work, Home, Study, Work,

Rinse, repeat and done.

I swear, the mundane used to be so fun.

A nap could mean a wrestle to the death,

Small-talk had depth,

Making excuses to not see our friends,

To sit and do nothing, when nothing was best.

Should I even bother showering?

Will anybody notice,

Anyone worth encountering?

I'm a mess,

But it's best,

If I get showered and dressed.

What will I wear today?

What should I do?

Nobody to match with,

I only match with you.

I swear, I used to care what I looked like.

But now, I've nobody to impress,

Shorts and t-shirt, a jumper at best,

A forced smile to complete,

my current code of dress.

Can the world see straight through me?

Appearing so strong,

Despite ultimate fragility.

The irony,

Not lost on me,

The world sees straight through me.

Reviews

[@_av_poetry]

Beautiful. Lucky woman. ;)