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Dec 2014
The glow from your cigarette
emits just enough light
to cast a shadow and illuminate your eyes.
I'm legally blind, but not blind enough
to miss the tears you attempt to hide
as you inhale.
You don't think I can see,
so you smile and attempt to control
the tremor in your voice.
I pretend not to notice,

But I know that your
father made you
cry again.

You realize that I noticed,
and yet, you don't say a thing.
We both pretend I didn't see,
even though we're both bad at pretending.
The silence envelops us,
and we refuse to say anything.
We've always used unspoken excuses
as a barrier between us,
because we aren't brave enough,
because your problems are your problems,
and mine are mine.

But I know that your
father made you
cry again.

There isn't a good enough reason why.
We don't have to have one,
and we don't look for one either.
That's just the way it's always been,
and I don't expect it to change.
Even though it probably should,
we'll continue to pretend.
So I ask for a cigarette, and it
casts a shadow and illuminates my eyes,
that aren't really that blind,

Because I know that your
father made you
cry again.

And that won't change, no matter what we pretend.
This one was written sometime in 2006.
(c) J.E. DuPont
Tide Islands
Written by
Tide Islands  Lost at Sea
(Lost at Sea)   
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