Pain of dayliness.
Overly quotidian,
To feel its enormity.
I don't want it here,
'cause it leaves me wounded.
Yet I hear whispers
Behind every corner,
At every step.
They remind me of it.
When I think of
who gives me happines, mostly.
I do it constantly.
And that's what hurts,
what hurts mostly.
Deal with it.