Ideal

The spaces between words do not get attention;

you only notice whenthey’renotthere.

Riding on a train,

our eyes glaze over and we are lost in our own worlds.

That is where I go in my mind:

on the trains stuffed–

but not too stuffed–

with blank-faced people

who do not care that my eyes may fill with tears,

who do not care when I hide my smile in my fingers,

trying to catch the last few rays of happiness before they dissolve

and I’m left cold.

I strive to be the spaces between words,

simultaneously undeserved and resolute in their power,

separating one love from another.

I need to be noticed;

but only when I’m gone.

 

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