by ReNay Nelson
My grief is compounded by
your idle inquisitions
Because our shared past
deciphers its present.
But let us not allow
my water eyes to stain
The picture perfect pretense
that we've framed
If I wipe my eyes
and look the other way,
The world won't have to know
what you've done to me.
So, I cry dry tears
and scream breathless air.
My pain won't coexist
with you comfort ever near.
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