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.