We get to love another day.

We breath


Swype words into Auto-correct that we can blame for typos

We get to write again.

We get to drink water and beer

It’s a gift to feel this,

Even when it hurts.

When missing is more answer than question.


We get to pine,

And celebrate when it’s not all for naught.

Reciprocity is a gift

Learn to cherish.

Even when not even

There is a joy in being the odd one out

Being able to feel

Being free enough to choose to be numb.


We are not dead yet.

Categories: Blogs and Thoughts, PoetryTags: , ,

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