I am Lucky some would say.

To have so many parents that care for me all day,
And yet

Luck I do Not feel.

Why?

Why do I not feel Luck that so many care?

Caring does no good when they aren't really there.

They look with eyes but do not see!

Do not see the truth!
The Truth in me.

My man has been trained in the human brain but mine he cannot see?

He refused to see

Spend his days and night with those who have symptoms just like me.

Still refused to see.

And now that my brain is calm and my eyes don't any longer linger on kitchen knives.

Now that a smile easy.

Now that a class is easy to pass

Now that my internal monologue doesn't have me doling out each of my possessions to my siblings.

Now that I don't think of how That note,
YES
That Note! Will read.

Still, he persists

And I don't know why.

Is he blind to the previous ailments?

Or is Blackness all he wants to see?