The Flatness

A terrible place to be

Still wishing some days that it had been me instead of her

Wondering what value I have

Still my fault some days

Flat is safe

Like a bag of cement on my back

Being cheery for everyone requires flat some days

Makes me to different to ever really fit in

The longing is deep and sad to just belong and be OK

As I write this, the flatness is lifting

Sometimes the grief is this brief