They Do Not Know

by Angela Miller

They tell me to live

They tell me to live

I tell them

I am.

In the present

is where I miss

him with insatiable longing

because it’s where

he’s supposed to be,

yet where he is ever missing from me.

Thankfully they do not

know this kind of pain,

this kind of life,

this kind of straddling

two worlds

at once.

They do not know of the

bitter-ist of bitters

in the middle of every sweet.

They do not know of the

sleepless nights,

and the breathless days.

Of the ache of all aches

 in the heart of my heart.

They do not know

and when I try to tell them

they cannot  hear me

because they do not

want to know of this grief.

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