And things we don’t say

Things I say, sound dark.

Things I do, look hurt.

Things I laugh about, might be painful.

But not to me.

I just am.

Journeying to be free.

To be close.

And never that faraway.

I miss you, though.

Not expecting and respecting.

In the silence.

In the spaces between.

Where you live.

Where you stay.