I Know

I hesitate to tell you I know

the feeling exactly as you outline.

To comfort you would be to admit

the truth, that I'm not fine.


The black and blue of your bruise

is the violet against my sunken eyelids,

causing grateful shadows on pallid cheeks

wishing for peace that my mind forbids.


And the fleeting smiles that you describe

spend moments upon my lips too,

flitting teasingly upon the edges

but darting away at sorrows cue.


I found the pieces of the map you burnt

sailing freely through the air,

relieved to be safe from your demanding task,

not having to wait and compare.


I caught them swiftly in shaking hands,

burning welts into my skin.

I tried to chase them all, mimicking joy,

as they flew high, my collection ending thin.


The dragging weight will have to wait

as we take fresh paper and fresh pen

to draw a new map, work together

to find our way again.