The comfort and the raw affection. Moving, with no time to spare.
Pauses in the restless nights. No person present for you.
Empathy with motives. Lies, the secret veils.

Photo by Nguyên Thanh Hiên on Unsplash

I don’t know how, but when I opened my eyes, she was there. Her eyes circling the corners of the room.
Air so peaceful.
The smile, simple but so pure.
A reflection that forces closure.

“You are awake,” her face stunned, a smile of being caught. “Nah… I’m not.”

“But you opened your eyes, I saw.” The joyous energy she lacked came rushing.

“I am just tired.” “No, I was going to wake you up,” restless, she cuts.

“Okay, I’m up.”

She goes through the catalogs. Shifting from one topic to another. Hard to focus on her. The wall between grounding. The peace that you are so afraid of. I like it.

The conversations you spent cultivating. It is strenuous. The people you enjoy talking about, I see them. So much information she doesn’t know. People take advantage of her.

I see what you see. I notice what you miss.

A witness through you. Endless blurts, the gossip you enjoy. I have to listen. Nah, nah… I get to listen in your words.

She carries the world without a pause, every flaw, every spark, unguarded. I watch, quiet, seeing what others miss. The room hums around her, but I linger in her orbit.

I wish she could see me, as I see her.