Lines between the lines

cracks that surface when the smoothness wears thin

resentment and rancour

when love fails responsibility to the hearts of others.

Once again I find myself towing the line,

plastering the cracks to suit

and denying myself space to breathe without fumes

funny how when I ask for what I need

it comes out as anger and rancour, again and again.

My youth still betrays me, five decades long.

Wisdom says yes, we are all important

and we all need to fit

into the cracks under the surface

in the lines between the lines.

However one simple gesture

does not mean that I have to tow the line alone.

If you prefer to laze in your space under the surface

you miss what happens in the end.

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