she is not here
as much as she is gone
with no way to predict
if she will be here
when I arrive seeing
her vacancy as a painful
as seeing her
horrified stare
she is not here even when she is
not a hateful stare
I was wrong
the blank stare
k that avoids me
and voids my existence
and I am here
and I am a ghost in the machine
that just about
functions
rbut which one of us is the cog
that creates the
chaos
the Piece of the mechanism
that does not
function right
does not work with others well
who needs to leave
before
the whole thing gets
fucked up
I am here less often
than I ache to be
in exile elsewhere
save for this single
day
when I come and go
and am barely here
when I am
she lurking as if she
believes
the world is her
world
when it used to be mine
and I miss being here
even when I am and
she is not
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