simple.

I wonder what is would be like to see the world through your eyes.

Do you wake up, dress and look out the window and look past the crystal sky and slow autumn outside your window. Past some leaves and a crisp day where you could find something to be happy about.

Or do you stand and stare at the cobweb in the window frame and look inside yourself and see a darkness that spills like oil inside your soul.

We all have hurt, and pain… we wake up with it its our legacy of a life half lived.
To have that lesson. It’s a gift and a nod to remind you to love and appreciate the things you have.
Its reason to get out of bed in the morning.

What inertia exists in you?

That causes you to arise like a crypt and spend a morn stewing in resentment over someone not living up to your expectations. You don’t live up to your own expectations,

... who whispers in your ears on those cold mornings and says ‘ its not fair, you deserve more… you deserve fun… its his boring way and him… HE took your happiness away’

Surely you realise you are talking to yourself. About yourself.

It is not I or he or they.
Its just you.

Your pain is yours alone.
Your creation
Of your own frustration
Bred from your fascination
Of your isolation

It’s not my obligation.

So I shake it off, scrape your tar off my feet.
I have my PhD in making sense of you.
Look up and realise its your not intention to mistreat.
Quoth the raven
“My heart feels like a lump of dark meat… “