Garbled Up – April 10, 2019

Do you see me?

Am I here?

I don’t wear it on my sleeve.

I’ve garbled it up so tight,

wrinkled, torn in places,


I’ve saved it,

tucked it away.

In the dark,

I pull it out.

No one wants to see.

I don’t have to ask.

I don’t have to guess.

I know,

From that hidden look in your eye,

You’re better than me.

I’d pick from your Apple tree.

Take what is yours,

But I couldn’t keep it.

When too much was clear

I’d find a way to disappear.

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