You smile like you do not want to be hurt
you are afraid of not being responsible
to the children
who you pretend to garner
and guide, knowingly,
pretentiously into a world
you have woven
with such subtle doubt

You cry yourself to bed
after you put your only daughter to sleep
and look into the black night ahead
with silver moons under your eyes
tired and dreaming of love

You watch a film and smile a sober smile
then walk slowly to clean up after
dinner
and stare a stolen gaze
like your eyes are not yours and your
reflection isn't yours to stare
at the glass to the right of your misery, somewhere
numb to your touch
and comprehending

the arrested state of your being
your soul,
somewhere up in the september clouds
just above your home sweet home