I wish the moon would bring light through the window. Tonight, like so many nights before, just darkness. It is too dark to see even shadows, and the blackness seems to consume me like an overgrown coat. It does not speak — and it will not listen. The quiet burns, and I so desperately want to be heard. I want tomorrow to be different, but I know there is nothing about this evening that hints of impending change. Little feet will still need shoes and my cupboards will still be bare.
When I get up from this bed – all the pain,
still be there.